


The Bat and The Peahen

by littlekittykanny



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Bruce tries to be a good human, But she's also happy she's gained an aunt, Could be considered an Old Friends AU between Bruce and Emilie, Emilie is so fucking out of here, Emilie was just trying to be a good mom y'all, Gabriel Agreste is fucking trash, Gabriel is abusive and deserves the pit, Gaydrien is here, Jason gets a new mom, MariBat, Marinette is very tired, Multi, One who also knows what it's like to be dead, This is a fic were Emilie isn't evil, This is my crack-pairing and I'm proud of it, and some violence, but they're working on it, mlb x dc, platonic Adrien and Marinette relationship here, the kids are not alright, there are mentions and implications of domestic violence, there's a car accident in the beginning, there's blood, you'll see who dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 15:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22398610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlekittykanny/pseuds/littlekittykanny
Summary: Adrien was laying on the floor—Emilie’s world screeched to a halt as the last thought processed. Her green eyes scanned the room again and found the body of her child lying limp on the ground. He was breathing— thank whatever God existed— but it was clear he was badly injured. A few feet in front of him was a young girl that Emilie didn’t know, but she’d been hurt as well. She saw Gabriel standing there, not even looking over at the children who needed help.He only had eyes for her.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste/Jonathan Kent, Adrijon, Bruce Wayne/Emilie Agreste, I'll add more if they're needed, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne, past Gabriel Agreste/Emilie Agreste
Comments: 258
Kudos: 1868
Collections: Maribat





	1. Prologue: A Wish

There was blood everywhere

The iron rich scent of it hit her nose violently as she fell to her knees. She reached out to the body on the ground, wishing she could cradle him. His blond hair was caked in blood as his green eyes stared into the distance. He was bleeding out. He was bleeding out, and there was nothing she could do. The child was whimpering for his mother. She wished she could touch him. She wished she could hold him as he died, let him know that he hadn’t died alone.

When the boy’s labored breathing stopped, she got to her feet. Tears rolled down her face as she stared at the woman crushed in the driver’s seat. She had pretty platinum blonde hair that fell along her left shoulder. Her eyes were shut, and her body was limp. She had died before her son, not that the boy knew. Now they were together...but this wasn’t the way she wanted it.

The ghost whirled around, screaming at the top of her lungs.

“STOP! STOP! I don’t want to go back! This wasn’t supposed to happen! This wasn’t supposed to happen! I want to stay here! I want to die! Please, please don’t take them!” she begged to the void around her. “Please! Please! Oh God, Amelie! Félix!”

_Balance must be kept. A wish has been made, your life returned. Another life must be taken for balance to remain._

“But Félix—”

_An unfortunate consequence. Amelie’s life was traded for yours. Amelie died driving, and an accident occurred which cost your nephew his life. These are natural consequences, Mrs. Agreste._

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” the ghost screeched. “I don’t want to live! Take it back! TAKE MY LIFE BACK!”

_Apologies, Emilie… but that is not how this works. You must go back._

The ghost was engulfed with light as Emilie let out an agonized scream.

She did NOT want to go back.


	2. Emilie's Not Having This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie felt her heart pounding in her chest as rage built in her soul. Her twin sister was dead. Her nephew was dead. Her best friend from university was dead.
> 
> And it was all her husband’s fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, the italics are just Emilie's thoughts. The bolded text is Emilie's thoughts mixed with Duusu's. 
> 
> I refuse to believe these tiny Gods have NO interaction with their holders when they're activated. Duusu's helping guide Emilie's thoughts and attention to the correct things to help her.

Her throat felt like sandpaper as she took her first gulp of air.

She coughed and coughed, trying to get used to breathing once again. She blinked slowly, trying to take in everything. Her mind was racing a mile a minute as she recalled what she had just seen. Her sister and nephew— the car wreck— the voice telling her about a wish. What wish? What was that voice? Why wasn’t she dead?

Emilie Agreste took a moment to gather herself to what was going on.

Amelie and Félix were dead.

Emilie was not in the purgatory-like place her conscious had resided in.

Nathalie was laying eerily still on the floor in front of her.

Gabriel was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by three unhappy... kwamis.

Adrien was laying on the floor—

Emilie’s world screeched to a halt as the last thought processed. Her green eyes scanned the room again and found the body of her child lying limp on the ground. He was breathing— thank whatever God existed— but it was clear he was badly injured. A few feet in front of him was a young girl that Emilie didn’t know, but she’d been hurt as well. She saw Gabriel standing there, not even looking over at the children who needed help.

He only had eyes for her.

“It worked! It worked, Emilie!” Gabriel whispered, walking slowly towards her. “My wish brought you back.”

_What?_

“Remember the jewels, my little doll? The things I discovered in Tibet? I’m sorry I broke your brooch, little doll, but it was your fault for making me angry. You knew I’d get mad, but you contacted him anyway.”

_Him? Oh, Bruce...Bruce Wayne...he never got my letter, did he?_

“I couldn’t lose you, my little doll. You tried again and again to leave me, and you got sicker and sicker each time you used the brooch.”

_Brooch...my miraculous...Duusu...what did he do to you? What’s happening?_

“You fell into a death-like state, little doll. Modern medicine could do nothing for you, so I turned to the miraculous. I became Hawkmoth, villain of Paris. I defeated the superheroes Ladybug and Chat Noir. I did it all so I could bring you back!”

_I don’t understand. Why is my baby hurt? Why is Adrien here? Why is that girl here? They’re children. Why are they hurt? Gabriel—_

“You see, little doll, if you combine the powers of the ladybug miraculous and the black cat miraculous the user is granted one wish. I wished for your return. Of course someone had to replace you, but fret not, Nathalie was more than willing to give her life in exchange for yours.”

_It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault. It was your fault—_

Emilie’s eyes darted down to the prone figure on the ground. Nathalie was not breathing. She was lying lifeless on the ground by her feet, and she couldn’t figure out why. Amelie had died to take her place— 

_The universe must remain in balance. Amelie’s life was taken in exchange for mine, but Félix died as a result of the wish...throwing the number of dead and living off when someone who shouldn’t have died did die. Someone’s life had to be taken to re-balance the number of living and dead. Gabriel killed Nathalie. Gabriel had been planning to kill Nathalie the whole time._

Emilie felt her heart pounding in her chest as rage built in her soul. Her twin sister was dead. Her nephew was dead. Her best friend from university was dead.

And it was all her husband’s fault.

Emilie screamed, despite the pain it caused her. Emilie screamed like she’d never dared to scream before. She stumbled out of her pod, half-dazed and extremely pissed off. She bent down and took the miraculous from Nathalie’s body, realizing that the brooch was no longer fractured. She pinned it to herself before hissing, “Duusu, spread my feathers.”

She could hear a soft voice say, “I missed you, Emilie. I won’t let him hurt you this time. I promise.”

As soon as the light cleared from her vision, the woman snapped her fan open, yanking feathers free. She looked at her husband, who was now sporting the last thing she could remember him wearing. That atrocious suit. The disgusting mask. The cane—  **with a sword in it** — clenched tightly in his hand. He was wearing the butterfly miraculous. 

Emilie swore to whatever higher power that she was going to tear it off his throat.

She sent her feathers flying at her husband. She didn’t really care where all of them hit, except for one. Thankfully, this feather met with its mark...her husband’s cane. Gabriel’s eyes widened as the cane wretched itself free from his grasp. He’d clearly been expecting something different when the feather landed, but Emilie didn’t have time to dwell on it for long.

The cane twisted itself, growing arms which it used to unsheath the hidden blade, before floating in front of Emilie. She also noted that the railings around her husband had been hit, and they were wrenching free. The metal twisted into a monstrous shape with piercing shrieks of metal on metal. In the end, two metal monsters stood behind Gabriel.Her creations stayed still as if waiting for her to speak. Emilie swallowed, feeling pins and needles down her throat the entire time.

“My amoks, I am Paonne. I need your help. This man has committed a great crime and we are the only ones who can stop him. Gollum one, I need you to grab the two children behind you. You and Gollum two will protect them. Cane, stand at the ready and attack on my signal!” she said, snapping her fan shut. 

She attached the fan to her belt before charging at Gabriel. The fury burned into her soul as she realized that Gabriel was trying to head  _ towards _ the children. She would not allow it. She would not allow her son to be used as a weapon against her. She would not allow her son to be used by his father. She was no longer afraid of the man she once called her husband.

Emilie slammed into Gabriel’s back, causing them both to fall onto the platform. Thanks to the miraculous, she was much stronger than she should have been for having just been revived. She pulled her fist back and slammed it into Gabriel’s ribs, causing him to flop back down from his attempt to get up. Emilie struggled to keep control, to keep Gabriel on his back.

If he couldn’t get his hands on her, then he could pin her.

“My little doll, please stop!” Gabriel pleaded with her. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

“LIES!” Emilie screamed, digging her elbow into his back hard. “You would have let me leave if you didn’t want to hurt me!”

The blonde haired woman had little time to react before she was shoved to the ground hard.

It seemed like something inside her husband had snapped as he slammed her on the edge of the platform. His eyes had glazed over like she remembered before, and the scowl was back on his face. He looked furious as he reached out with one hand towards her throat, while ranting about how ungrateful she was. He was taken by surprise when Emilie managed to jab her heel into his side, forcing him off balance just enough for her to slip off the platform.

Emilie fell into the water with a splash, but quickly gained hold of herself. She couldn’t be sloppy. She couldn’t afford to lose. Amelie and Félix had already lost their lives to this madman. Emilie and Adrien had lost their freedom to him...and lord knows what else had happened to Adrien while she’d been gone. She wouldn’t let Gabriel take anything else from her.

He’d already taken so much, after all. 

Her eyes darted over to the metal gollums, taking in that they were protecting the two children, just as she’d ordered. Good, that gave her less to worry about and more attention to devote to tearing Gabriel apart. She watched as he jumped down to meet her, and that was when Emilie noticed something odd.

Gabriel was wearing earrings.

**Rip them out, then go for the ring** .

Emilie whistled to Cane, and the cane sword followed. She snapped her fingers, and Cane began his assault. He lunged at Gabriel, forcing the man to keep moving while Emilie stared him down. She began to look at his costume and noted that there was a silver ring on his one hand as well as the earring that somehow peaked through his mask. Emilie smiled before racing towards one of the metal outcroppings holding the platform up. She jumped onto one and waited for Cane to lead Gabriel over to her.

She then whistled, causing Cane to pause and Gabriel to look up in shock. Emilie dropped down on him without any hesitation, her hands flying to his head. She yanked both earrings out, earning a howl of pain from Gabriel. She was knocked back into the water, still holding onto the earrings as Gabriel screamed, holding his now bleeding ears. A flash of red greeted Emilie, and she handed the earrings to the Kwami without hesitation or questions.

**Good, now we need the ring.**

Something told Emilie that she wouldn’t be the one to recover the butterfly like she originally wanted to. She couldn’t explain why, but once she noticed the earrings, the earrings and ring became the most important things to retrieve. She whistled quickly once more as the red fairy zipped back up to the platform.

Cane managed to buy her time once more as she scurried to her feet. Getting the ring would be a hell of a lot harder than the earrings. He would be expecting an ambush, and she’d have to get near his hands to get the ring. She didn’t like her odds or her options, but Emilie knew deep down that this had to be done. She couldn’t let Gabriel rule her anymore. Not if she wanted to keep her son safe.

Emilie called off Cane, telling him to standby in case she needed him. Emilie squared her shoulders and prepared for a fight. Gabriel charged first, not a big shock to her, and she darted to the side. He might have been stronger, but she was certainly faster. She always had been. She did this a few times, making sure to be out of his range every time he swung.

Emilie had learned her lesson the last time they fought.

She couldn’t beat him head to head. The petite blonde had to wait for Gabriel to tire himself out before she could even dream of having a chance to get close to that hand. She continued to weave in and out of his hits, noticing him weakening. Good, he was getting tired. Once he was down, she could move in for the final blow.

Gabriel eventually fell to his knees, having hit his wife several times, but unable to get a hold on her. Using more than one miraculous had drained him, especially since he had combined the ladybug and black cat miraculi. He tried to take a few deep breaths until he felt a sharp pain in his stomach.

Emilie had quietly crept over to him while he was trying to catch his breath and kicked him hard. While he was winded, she slammed her entire body weight down on him, taking him by surprise. She grabbed the arm she needed and bit down  _ hard. _ Gabriel thrashed as she kept her hold on him. Her slim fingers managed to slip the ring off of his finger, though he did manage to grab onto her wrist.

Emilie bit back a cry of pain as Gabriel twisted her wrist hard, but instead of letting the ring go, she bit him even harder in response. The only thing keeping her from drawing blood or ripping out a chunk of flesh was his suit, and the ferocity surprised Gabriel. Emilie thrashed around and kicked at Gabriel, no longer holding anything back.

Once she’d slipped free of him, a black blur came to reclaim the ring. Exhausted herself, Emilie stumbled back towards one of the walls, panting. She wasn’t sure she could do this. The anger and adrenaline that had been coursing through her earlier was waning, and she wanted to rest. She watched Gabriel get up again, his expression murderous, before she smiled. She could see the marks she and Cane had left on him, and Emilie felt pride. She almost accepted that she was to die again until a red and black yoyo came flying out of nowhere.

A small heroine swung down into the water and things began to make more sense. The dark haired girl with her son must be the superheroine. She was the holder of the ladybug miraculous. She was the one who would reclaim Gabriel’s butterfly. Emilie felt strangely okay with that, but she pegged that up to Duusu’s influence on her while she was transformed.

A boy clad in leather jumped down as well, and Emilie felt her heart leap out of her throat. That was her baby. Her baby boy had a miraculous?! He was the holder of the black cat miraculous? Suddenly all the anger and resentment she’d felt towards Gabriel came flooding back. Their son was the black cat holder, and Gabriel still fought him? Gabriel fought their son? Gabriel had hurt her baby!

Before either teen could react, Emilie stomped forward and decked Gabriel with all her might.

They heard a crack, and Gabriel passed out. The ladybug heroine said nothing, but carefully removed the butterfly miraculous from Gabriel. Emilie had her hands ready, allowing the small purple kwami to fall into her hands.

“I’m so sorry, Nooroo,” she said somberly. “I should have never encouraged Gabriel to follow those legends back in Tibet. I should have never helped him find the miraculous. I should have taken you, Duusu, and Adrien and left Gabriel before any of this could happen. I’m sorry I’m a coward.”

“It’s not your fault,” Nooroo replied weakly. “Someone would have found us eventually. Things may have turned out the same way, just with different people. You were scared, Emilie. He hurt you. He threatened you, threatened your family, and threatened to hurt Adrien if you didn’t do what he wanted. You did your best to protect your family.”

“Duusu, feathers fall,” Emilie whispered. “It wasn’t enough, and I’m sorry.”

A dark blue kwami joined the light purple one in her hands as the peahen looked up at her. Duusu was smiling sadly, her pinkish red eyes knowing. The kwami gently pat her hand before saying there was no need to apologize. The kwamis then floated towards the ladybug to speak with her, leaving Emilie alone with her son.

“...is it true? Did fath-I mean, Mr. Agreste, threaten to hurt your son if you didn’t do what he wanted?” he asked quietly, his eyes somber and distant.

Emilie felt the tears begin to fall as she grabbed her son and held him tightly.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien. I never wanted you to find out. I didn’t want you to think your father was a bad person. I wanted to protect you,” she sobbed. “But I didn’t protect you at all! I locked you up out of fear. Sure, I tried to make up for keeping you home all the time, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to leave your father. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to get us out.”

She felt her son tense in her arms for a moment before melting into the embrace. She could feel his body start to tremble as he began to cry as well. She gently ran her fingers through his hair like she used to when he was little and rocked him. It wasn’t until his ladybug partner tapped his shoulder that her son looked up.

“Chat Noir, can you take Mrs. Agreste—”

“Emilie, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Take Emilie and get back onto the platform. I’ll bring Hawkmoth up, and we’ll execute our plan. Emilie, I’m afraid you’ll have to get back in the...pod until the police come. That way you’ll be cleared of any criminal activity, seeing as you didn’t have anything to do with his decision to become Hawkmoth—”

“What about my son, Miss—”

“Ladybug,” the girl replied. “And what about your son?”

“Well, since he’s Chat Noir, he won’t be in any of the video surveillance. How are we going to ensure he isn’t charged with helping his father without outing him as Chat Noir?” Emilie asked. “I don’t know you personally, young lady, but you and my son where the only ones down here when I woke up, so you two must be the people standing before me.”

Ladybug looked at her partner in shock before gasping, “Adrien?!”

Emilie had to bite back a laugh as her son pouted.

“No fair, Bugaboo! You know my secret identity, but I don’t know yours!” he said.

“There will be time for that later,” Emilie said, releasing him from the hug. “Now we need to implement whatever plan Ladybug has cooked up. We’ll talk about this after we deal with the police.”

She looked at the two teens, two children who had more responsibility thrust on them than they ever should have, with a soft smile. She reassured them that she’d help deal with the police and the legal matters. Emilie promised both of them that she wasn’t going anywhere. She was happy when they seemed to relax slightly, knowing they weren’t going in all by themselves.

Emilie squeezed Ladybug’s shoulder before saying, “It’s going to be okay.”

Ladybug just smiled anxiously in response.


	3. Emilie Reaches Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie needs an out.
> 
> She may have just found it.

The legal proceedings had been a nightmare. 

The press was even worse though. 

Thank the higher powers for Audrey Bourgeois. Once her old friend had heard the news that Emilie was found alive in a secret room, the fashion queen had barreled her way into the Agreste Mansion. No one had dared to stop the mayor's wife, not when she was on the warpath like this. She had almost immediately begun handling the press for Emilie, tossing out journalists left and right for being disrespectful. 

"She and her son just went through something extremely traumatic! You animals truly have no soul and are utterly ridiculous! Leave her alone!"

Emile had smiled at her long-time friend before sighing heavily. She had then rubbed the bridge of her nose, stressed beyond belief. She had wanted this to be over already, if not for her sake, for the children's. 

Adrien hadn't left her side since she woke up. He had regressed into the little boy she remembered fondly. The little boy who was afraid to leave his mother's side. The little boy who preferred his mother over everyone else. The little boy who was unsure and scared of everything. The little boy who knew fear and loneliness better than any child ought to.

The cameras and added stress didn't help Adrien process his father's betrayal. They had tried asking the poor boy about Gabriel, and if he knew his father was a terrorist. No matter how many times he told them he had no idea, the press still continued to run their tabloid stories on whether or not Adrien actually knew. Not to mention having to use illusions when Chat needed to be in the same place as Adrien had caused considerable strain on both her son and Ladybug. 

Ladybug, who she'd come to discover was Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a friend of her son's, who was doing everything in her power to help them. 

Marinette was a sweet girl, and Emilie hated Gabriel for pulling her into his mess. The girl had been trying so hard to keep Adrien safe. She had worked herself to the bone to protect their identities. She had also tried to ensure that Gabriel would not escape punishment for terrorizing Paris. All while continuing to be her son’s only and most stalwart supporter. 

Meanwhile, their classmates were trying to paint her as the villain. They all felt bad for her son, but accused Marinette of being involved. These rumors caused more distress as the press descended on Marinette’s family. They demanded to know why these people would support the son of a terrorist. To their credit, Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng argued fiercely that Adrien was a good boy and that he’d always been nothing if not polite and respectful every time he entered their home. It was easy for Emilie to see where Marinette got her sense of loyalty and good heart after her parents’ defended not only her, but Adrien as well. 

Emile had put a firm stop to everything by having a firm conversation with Maria Rossi and her lawyers. After all, it was her daughter’s fault that these rumors began. Emilie’s legal team had managed to prove that there was no evidence linking Marinette or Adrien to Hawkmoth’s doings. The legal team had even managed to dig up proof that Lila Rossi was the one who had connection to Gabriel, and she was trying to pass the buck to Marinette and Adrien.

By the end of that week, the Agrestes and Marinette had a restraining order against Lila Rossi. Emilie had went to the school and made it very clear that Lila Rossi wasn't to be anywhere near her son or Miss Dupain-Cheng. When the teacher and principal tried to protest, Emilie had given them the coldest smile she could before telling them her lawyers were on speed dial. They had buckled easily under the pressure.

Especially due to everyone's new-found fear of her family. 

Emile took a deep breath, continuing to clean out the room she and her husband once shared. She had packed up most of her clothes already but was now choosing what items she'd take. She had already made the decision to sell all the jewelry Gabriel had given her. Now she was rifling through her drawers, deciding what to throw out and what to keep. 

Her phone rang as she continued digging through her nightstand. She looked at it before putting the phone on speaker. 

"Bonjour, Audrey—"

"Don't you, 'Bonjour, Audrey' me! Is it true you're looking to leave Paris?!"

"France if I can manage it. Audrey, you were right. I deserved more. I should have left him. I should have taken Adrien and run. Gabriel’s a monster. Adrien's a mess, Queenie. His friends half-pity half-fear him. He's hounded relentlessly by journalists asking if he helped his father with actual terrorism. Marinette is his only friend, and she's getting it just as bad—"

"So what are you going to do, Emmie?"

Emilie paused in surprise. She thought her oldest and most stubborn friend would try and argue that she needed to stay in Paris. She thought Audrey would tell her she needed the support of her friends… especially now that she had buried Amelie and Félix...another reason her son was suffering. 

"Emmie? I know things have been rough, but you can't just rush into things. You need to have a plan. Where are you going to live? Who will be your support when you're so far away from Paris? Is this good for Adrien? What about Marinette?"

Emilie's heart stuttered as she came across an old letter, one from early in her marriage. It wasn't from her husband. She looked down at it, rereading the letter as if she was searching desperately for something. Suddenly, everything came back to her in a heart-wrenching flood. 

"Audrey, I'm going to Gotham,” she said firmly. “I’m going to see an old friend...and I’m taking Adrien and Marinette with me.”

The blonde didn’t listen to Audrey’s reaction. Her thoughts raced at a mile a minute. Emilie knew Marinette’s parents weren’t happy with the treatment of their daughter, but did not have enough money to move. She could offer Marinette a way out. She could offer to take Marinette with her and use her old ties to help their daughter have a chance at a future. Adrien would then have a friend when they left, and Marinette would no longer have to fear being ostracized by her peers. 

Marinette might be hesitant, but considering that she was now the guardian of the miracle box, she might want to leave Paris. The dark haired girl may appreciate moving to somewhere where no one knew her name or had any preconceived notion of her. She’d thrive too, and Emilie was positive about that fact. Emilie recognized the girl’s dedication and talent that would serve her well in the world. She’d probably have a job soon after their arrival. 

Emilie just had to convince Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain that this would be the best choice for their daughter.

She told Audrey that she’d call back before hanging up the phone. Thin fingers quickly dialed a number that she prayed still worked. She could hear her heart beating rapidly as the phone rang. Her grip on her phone was firm. Her entire body was rigid as she listened to the drone of the dial tone until she heard someone pick up. A voice she hadn’t heard in many years came across the receiver. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gulped before responding to the speaker.

“Bonjour, Alfred...it’s Emilie. Emilie Graham de Vanily. I’m sorry I haven’t called in so long. How have you been?”

———————————

Alfred’s quiet day was shattered upon receiving that one phone call.

He’d been doing his regular routine of dishes and laundry when he’d heard the phone ring. Bruce was down in the cave working and staying out of Jason’s way. Dick was currently in Bludhaven, and Damian had gone to visit his eldest brother. Jason was in the manor, but that was only due to injuries he’d received during a sting gone wrong. 

Jason had been shot in the abdomen several times and was currently recovering in his old room. Tim was the only one, surprisingly to everyone else, that Jason would let change his bandages. Jason was still angry with Bruce for the argument that had resulted after his injuries. Bruce was too proud to tell his son he’d only screamed at him because he was afraid he’d lost him again. Jason, on the other hand, was too stubborn to ever tell Bruce that he knew the bust would go bad, and that’s why he took the job.

For all his huff and puff, Jason loved his family. He’d put himself in deadly situation before them every time...not that the young man would ever admit that.

So, Jason was sedated and resting. Last time Alfred had passed his room, he had noticed Tim sitting at the foot of Jason’s bed, quietly doing Wayne Enterprises paperwork. With all his boys preoccupied, and the ladies currently out of the house, Alfred had been enjoying just being able to go about his day without having to worry about extra cleaning. He never would have dreamed he’d pick up the phone to hear her voice.

Emilie Graham de Vanily...why he hadn’t heard her voice in over a decade! Which was a pity to Alfred, as she was one of the only people a younger Bruce Wayne had ever relaxed around. Emilie’s family had been friends with the Waynes, Emilie’s father having run in similar social circles as Bruce’s father. Emilie had enjoyed coming to Gotham with her father, and when they got older, Bruce had often went out with her. 

He had claimed it was to keep an eye on her, as she was a lovely young woman in Gotham, but Alfred knew that Bruce genuinely liked Emilie. She had never pitied him for being an orphan. She had tried to take the focus off of his past and focus on the now. She had wanted him to smile and laugh, to enjoy the life he had. Emilie also had a way of seeing through Bruce in ways the man himself had never understood. 

It was a shame that Emilie had married Gabriel.

The man truly didn’t deserve Emilie’s good heart and warmth. As much as it pained both of them to admit, neither Bruce nor Alfred had thought that Gabriel would go so far as to cut Emilie off from the rest of the world like he did. He had isolated her from most of her childhood friends, though they noticed that for a while, Emilie had fought back in her own little ways. Little gifts and short letters had come from her, but nothing more.

Now she was on the other end of the phone, shy and timid sounding.

“Miss Emilie? Is that really you, my dear?” Alfred asked quietly. “Are you all right?”

He could hear the hollow laughter on the other end of the phone, and it made his stomach sink.

“Have you seen the news?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“What news—”

“My ex-husband is a terrorist. The press is convinced my son knew, but he didn’t. He and his best friend are easily the most feared and hated children in Paris. I can’t leave my home without people asking me if I knew my husband was going to hold me hostage in a secret room, separating me from my child,” Emilie croaked. “I was packing up my things, and I came across an old letter of Bruce’s… is the offer of a safe place to hide still on the table?”

Alfred’s eyes widened as he looked towards the figure who’d just walked in the door. The dark haired man looked at Alfred with a confused and slightly concerned expression. He quietly asked the butler who was on the phone, and Alfred responded by saying, “I’ll have you ask him yourself, Miss Emilie. I’d personally love to see you again.”

He held out the phone to his former charge. Bruce looked almost lost as he took the phone from Alfred. His expression was troubled, yet almost hopeful, as he lifted the phone to his ear. Bruce quietly said hello, listening carefully to the person on the other line. It could be a trick, and Bruce wasn’t willing to take the chance. After all, Emilie hadn’t responded to one of his letters in years. She could have been dead for all Bruce knew, and this could be someone impersonating her to get close to him.

“Bonjour, mon râleur,” a soft voice came, tearful and broken. “I missed you. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. You were right. Something was wrong. Something was always wrong.”

The nickname hit Bruce in the chest, leaving him almost breathless. 

No one but Emilie called him that. She had called him that from the day they met. He had complained to his father that he didn’t want to play with the little five-year old French girl. She had immediately started calling him mon râleur and had refused to call him anything else. His mother had later translated it for him as ‘my grumpy’ or ‘my complainer’. 

Emilie had continued to call him that, even after his parents had died. Her voice had always been teasing or loving when she referred to him by that nickname. She’d continued to call him that despite her boyfriends’ distaste towards her having a pet name for someone other than her significant other. Gabriel, in particular, had told Emilie never to refer to him by such a term of endearment again. Emilie had refused, citing that Bruce was one of her oldest friends, and that Gabriel would have to get over it. That was one of the last times he’d seen Emilie in person.

“Ma colombe,” Bruce said quietly. “What do I owe for the pleasure of receiving a phone call? Does Gabriel know you’re calling-”

“Gabriel’s been arrested, Bruce.”

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up at those words. Gabriel had been arrested? What for? Was Emilie okay? What was going on? Was that why she was calling him? Why hadn’t he heard about this before? Had he just not been paying attention to the news?

“Emilie, are you all right?” he demanded. “Is your child all right? You have a son, don’t you? Did Gabriel hurt either of you? Do I need to come get the both of you?”

Harsh laughter came over the phone, causing his anxiety to go up. 

“Physically? Both me and Adrien are fine. Emotionally? Mentally? Bruce, my ex-husband is a terrorist. He nearly killed me for trying to leave him. Then he locked me up. He psychologically manipulated my son the same way he did to me. The press are monsters, and now I have two vulnerable teenagers who are being preyed on and accused of terrorism,” Emilie began. “We need to leave...and I was wondering if your offer of a place to hide had an expiration date?”

“You want to come to Gotham?”

“Yes, Bruce. I need to leave France. My baby can’t stay here...neither can his friend. Not with all of this. We’ve already finished all the legal things, so don’t worry about our clearance to travel. I’ve already checked, and we’re clear to leave the country.”

Bruce’s thoughts raced. Back when he’d offered that to her, he hadn’t been Batman yet. He hadn’t adopted Dick yet, let alone thought he’d adopt three more children and have one of his own. What would the boys think? What were the risks of having them here? Would they be at risk if he brought them to Gotham?

At the same time, this was Emilie.

Emilie, the girl who had been his best friend for years. Emilie, the girl who’d stayed with him and watched him cry after his parents died. Emilie, the woman who’d offered her endless support even if it ended her romantic relationships. Emilie, the woman who he had loved despite everything that had happened, and now she was asking for his help.

He made a split-second decision.

“Of course you’re welcome here, Emilie,” he said. “So long as you’re okay with me having five children of my own. How soon?”

“How soon can you get us there?” she asked. “And since when did you have kids? God, I’ve missed so much. I need to work out things with Marinette’s parents, but I don’t think I’m going to have any issues. Oh, Marinette is Adrien’s best friend, and since she refuses to renounce him, she’s also being accused of terrorism. This has been a nightmare…”

“Emilie, clear things with Marinette’s parents and any other legal things you may need to do, then call me back. I’ll send a plane as soon as all the paperwork is straightened out. I’ll do what I need to do on my end. Yes, I have four adopted children and one biological child. I believe my youngest is around the same age as your son.”

“Bruce?”

“Emilie?”

“Thank you...for everything. For being there for me when I needed it. For trying to warn me. For accepting me now...I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend.”

Bruce felt his chest ache. He wanted to hug her so much. He’d missed her constant sunny presence in his life. He had thought he’d never get to see her again. He’d forgiven her long ago for Gabriel’s actions. Sure there were some things they’d need to talk about once she got there, but Bruce found that he really wasn’t all that worried about it. 

“Ma colombe, you are one of my best friends,” he said slowly. “He manipulated you, and you don’t need to apologize for that, but you’re welcome. I will happily take you and the kids in. Just get everything settled, okay?”

Bruce could hear the relief in her voice as they finished their call. He looked down at the phone quietly for a few moments before looking at Alfred. Alfred simply smiled at him before telling Bruce he didn’t need to worry. Alfred would have three rooms ready for their guests in no time. He thanked Alfred before taking a deep breath. First things first, call his lawyers and sort out the legal things. Second, he’d have to talk to his children. 

Somehow, he felt like talking to the lawyers was going to be easier...maybe he could get Tim to tell Jason?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma colombe- my dove


	4. Anxieties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Emilie have anxieties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient guys! I'm back in my master's classes, and I've been really sick, so thanks for sticking with me.

Telling Jason did not go well.

Not at all.

Though, Bruce wasn’t sure if it was caused by sedatives, or if it was the fact that Jason was still angry with him, even after almost two weeks. The young man had a lot of colorful words for Bruce, most of which was about how he wasn’t prepared to have another brother and sister to protect. He went on to rant about how it was damn near impossible to protect the family he had now because all of them were self-sacrificing assholes, and now there would be  _ more _ , probably as  _ equally self-sacrificing, _ assholes for him to try and keep alive.

Tim had simply looked exhausted before rubbing the bridge of his nose and sighing, “He’s fuckin’ drugged to all hell, especially after the dumbfuck ripped his stitches out. Twice. Now, what’s this about you stealing more children?”

“I’m not stealing them, Tim,” Bruce sighed. “An old friend of mine,with two children she’s responsible for, is coming to Gotham. She...she just got out of an abusive marriage and needed somewhere to go. I expect the lot of you to be on your best behavior…and maybe we should wait until Jason is off the painkillers to introduce him.” 

“Fuck you, Bruce! Imma goddamn DELIGHT!”

The Wayne patriarch shook his head in exasperation before asking Tim where his other two sons were. Tim reported that Dick had taken Damian and Jon (who’d flown in to visit Damian) to that new trampoline park that had opened up. Damian had told Tim they’d be back in a few hours and that he would ensure ‘the other patrons’ safety as well as Grayson’s’. That made Bruce smile a little. Hopefully the trio would have fun, and Damian wouldn’t flip out once he told the boy of their impending house guests.

Bruce thanked Tim while the clearly exhausted teen waved him off. He walked out of the room, feeling his anxiety bubbling in his stomach. Yesterday Emilie had phoned him saying all of their preparations had been made. In one week, Emilie and the children would be on their way to Gotham. He was supposed to pick them up from the airport so he could meet Adrien and Marinette. She had sounded so elated at the prospect, and Bruce couldn’t help but feel warm at that.

Even after all these years, Emilie still trusted him.

That meant more to Bruce than he believed the blonde woman knew. He’d put on such a persona for years that many had lost their faith in him. He was just a no good play-boy, chasing after the next skirt. He’d have to explain the persona to Emilie, though he was certain that she would see through it in seconds. She’d probably scold him once she arrived. Emilie would tell him that he needed to be honest with people, otherwise they’d never know the real him. 

So why was Bruce so anxious about their arrival?

His children.

Tim seemed to accept the fact there were new people coming without much fuss or care. However, he also knew Tim was a very mental individual. The boy was probably thinking of all that could go wrong with having new people in the house. He’d probably wait until he met them to make any further judgements on them...after looking over every piece of data available on them.

Jason was too drugged to really do much at the moment. Honestly, the worst Bruce could see his second eldest doing was teasing him over Emilie. He was sure that there would be many innuendos and other filthy jokes coming his way once Jason was fully recovered. He just hoped that the young man would have enough sense  _ not _ to do that in front of Emilie and her children. 

Dick would be fine...or at least Bruce hoped he’d be fine. Dick was the most extraverted of his children, and he got along well with other people. He enjoyed getting to know others and was generally pretty easy going. He also had rather impeccable big brother instincts. Bruce was sure that the second Dick met the kids, he’d be mother henning them in no time.

Damian would be the wild card in the situation. His youngest son had grown a great deal since his mother left him. He’d learned how to get along with his brothers. He learned how to implement non-lethal force. He’d learned how to better regulate himself and was now more aware of others emotions then before. 

That being said, Damian was still the product of him and Talia al Guhl. The boy was cautious, still treating new things as a threat until they were proven to be otherwise. He still had some difficulties relating to kids his age. He was overprotective and still had a temper. Bruce wasn’t sure how Damian would react to having two new children in the house.

And that’s completely leaving out another big factor...Emilie herself.

When Damian was younger, he’d been hopeful that Bruce would reunite with Talia. Now that he was older, and could see and understand how much  _ pain _ she caused, Damian hadn’t spoken of his mother. The only thing he’d expressed involving Bruce’s love life was his disdain over his father’s former relationship with Selina Kyle. He’d not found her a worthy partner for his father and had no problem saying that in front of her.

Bruce had no idea how he would react to this woman coming into their home, especially a woman that was so different from his mother.

His older boys would be polite, but Bruce also worried about them being distant. Dick would keep cautious boundaries until he figured out that Emilie wasn’t a threat to them. Once that happened, Bruce predicted he would get along well with Emilie...they had similar personalities after all.

Tim did not have a good relationship with his mother before her death. Janet was largely absent from Tim’s life. He never expressed hating the woman, but he also couldn’t say he was ever close to her. Having a maternal figure in his life would change things, and that might stir up emotions that Tim had never dealt with properly. Whether he would reject Emilie or cling to her was up in the air.

Jason was the most at risk, and the fact weighed heavily on Bruce. Jason had lost Catherine Todd to an overdose. He’d told Bruce time and time again that Catherine did what she could with what she had. She was a far cry from perfect, but she’d tried her best. Then Sheila Haywood came into their lives, and Jason died. His birth mother had worked with the Joker and sealed her son’s fate. He’d been betrayed by her. 

If anyone was to take Emilie’s presence bad, it would be Jason. 

Bruce wouldn’t be able to blame him either. 

He rubbed his forehead, feeling so exhausted. He really hoped he was doing the right thing.

———— 

Emilie knew she was, at least half-way, doing the right thing.

The looks of relief on the children’s faces when she, Tom, and Sabine told them they were leaving Paris had spoken volumes. Marinette had looked close to tears, slumped in her mother’s arms. Adrien had nearly collapsed, but Tom thankfully kept him steady. Both children looked so exhausted, and none of the adults could blame them.They’d not only had to go through the police, but the media as well. Both had been forced to delete all of their social media accounts, and Marinette shut down the little online store she had set up. This was, of course, done after both were severely harassed on the internet.

They’d been called just about every name in the book. Marinette’s store had been trashed with terrible reviews. Both children’s phones had been ringing off the hook, as several of their classmates had  _ sold _ their phone numbers to the media. Several death threats were received, and it was after Marinette received a death threat that Tom and Sabine agreed with Emilie’s plan to take Marinette with her.

They’d finally be away from the Paris circus media and away from the people who wished them harm. With Bruce at Emilie’s back, she was hopeful that he’d be able to help keep the children hidden for a little while. Gotham could be a dangerous place, but for Emilie, Bruce’s home had always been a place of comfort.

It was the first place Emilie’s father had taken her after he divorced her mother.

She had been sad and lonely without her mother and Amélie. Playing with Bruce under the watchful eye of Alfred Pennyworth, and occasionally Martha Wayne, had helped her heal from the separation. Going to the Wayne Manor in Gotham meant Emilie got to have another child as a playmate. Going to Gotham meant Emilie was somewhere with people who paid attention to her.

Alfred may have taught Emilie how to act like a lady, but he was also a willing participant in many games. The old Englishman had allowed Bruce and her to help him cook sometimes as well as several other things. Alfred was the one who’d taught Emilie how to garden and had encouraged her literary interests. He was key in acquiring several different books when she and Bruce had hit a mythology kick. 

This is where Emilie’s anxieties were currently making their home.

She was positive removing Adrien and Marinette from Paris was the correct response. They needed to be somewhere they could recover without being constantly reminded of their sacrifices and pain. It was no longer safe for them in Paris, and until people forgot Gabriel, it may never be safe again.

What she wasn’t positive of was how Adrien would react to Bruce of his kids.

Adrien had just been betrayed by his father. He had just discovered that Emilie and Gabriel’s marriage was not what it seemed. He had learned that the reason he’d never been allowed out of the house was that Gabriel had threatened to take Adrien away from Emilie several times. He’d learned how Emilie had gotten the miraculous, taking it from Gabriel to try and escape from him with Adrien. He learned that his father had broken the peacock on purpose. He learned that it was all his father’s fault that Emilie had gotten sick.

Adrien had also learned just how often Gabriel hit Emilie.

Her son might feel threatened by Bruce’s presence. Adrien might fear that Bruce would try to hurt her and develop anxiety around keeping her safe. Should Bruce try to extend a fatherly hand, Adrien might even reject him outright. Adrien could become aggressive and defensive, and that’s not what Emilie wanted for her son.

Adrien’s lack of social skills would also have to be addressed as well as the trauma he’d been through. Emilie worried that he would regress and stay regressed, refusing to leave her side. The concern grew when Emilie realized she had no idea how to help him reclaim the confidence he had before she died. She’d discussed this with Bruce, and he’d reassured her he knew several excellent counselors, but she was still anxious.

Because she needed therapy too.

Years of being threatened had taken their toll on her, and Emilie was now struggling to let her son out of her sight for even one moment. She was terrified that Gabriel would pop out of nowhere and take Adrien from her. She was afraid she’d be unable to protect him again.

Emilie shook her head violently, putting her hands down on the box she was packing. She couldn’t think about this right now! Emilie forced herself to continue packing what she was going to donate to charity. She had to get rid of everything before she could leave with the kids.

As she placed another item in the box, Emilie prayed to whatever higher power the universe ran on that she was doing the right thing.


	5. Arriving in Gotham

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for them to reunite. Dick meets someone with his sense of humor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you all know, I did go back and edit a few chapters after realizing the timeline originally planned wouldn't work out too well with what I wanted to do.
> 
> So Emilie has been dead for longer than a year, and Adrien and Marinette have been Chat Noir and Ladybug for longer than a year. Sorry for any confusion.

Emilie was practically vibrating with anxiety. 

Adrien was holding onto her coat in the same way he used to as a child. It almost sent her into a panic. The last time Adrien held onto her like this Gabriel had been in a foul mood. She could feel his firm grip, and she could tell he was shaking too. She felt him press against her side as they walked out into the crowd. 

Marinette was holding onto the back of Adrien's coat with a vice grip. Aside from the whiting of her knuckles, Emilie saw no outward signs of anxiety in Marinette. The girl's steely grey- blue eyes were focused on the path ahead of her. Her shoulders were squared, and it seemed she was channeling her inner Ladybug to get through the airport.

Thankfully, the trio managed to get to the exit without much fuss. It appeared that news had either not reached Gotham, or the Gothamites simply didn't care about them. From experience, Emilie knew it was probably the second one. 

The city of crime was infamous after all. Many people had connections to some kind of crime or illicit activity. There was hardly a single person who could claim their families were saints, so none of them really had any room to talk. The average people of the airport probably wouldn't bother her or the children. It was the upper class individuals that concerned her. 

"Ms. Graham de Vanily—"

"Emilie, Marinette," the blonde woman kindly reminded her. 

"Emilie… who are we supposed to be meeting?" the dark haired girl asked quietly. 

"An old friend of mine...Bruce. He's a very kind man," she said softly. "He was my best friend as a child. He offered me a place in his home after I married Gabriel...just in case anything happened. It’s been over a decade, but he insisted the invitation was still open.”

Marinette nodded, keeping her body squared and her nod firm. Emilie felt her heart break a little as she saw the scarlet heroine who had been battling her husband in the eyes of a sixteen year old girl. Instead of her biggest worry being who she would date, she’d had the fate of Paris shoved onto her tiny shoulders. Marinette beared the burden well, but Emilie firmly believed it shouldn’t have been hers to begin with.

“Are you sure about this, Maman?” Adrien asked again. “Madame Bourgeois offered us a place in New York if we chose as well.”

“I’m certain, mon petit chaton,” Emilie said, looking down at her son.

He was almost as tall as her, and her heart broke more as she thought about all the time she’d missed with her son. Adrien looked so grown up now, and Emilie couldn’t help the bitter smile that found its way to her face. Her son looked so much like his grandfather...her father. The sixteen year old boy’s green eyes were searching his mother’s for any hint of deceit. Her baby had gotten wiser in his pain, and she wished with all her might that she could take everything back.

She loved her son dearly, but she wished he hadn’t needed to learn about the world’s cruelty this way.

Emilie gave both children a reassuring smile before looking around.

Bruce said he would be coming with Alfred and his eldest adopted son. Apparently, the young man had wanted to meet them right away, and Bruce hadn’t been able to stop him from tagging along. He’d apologized several times and told her that he would make sure Dick didn’t smother them. He then mentioned that his eldest was the best with people, so the young man was probably the best child to start with as far as introductions went.

Emilie’s green eyes scanned the crowd before she stopped on a figure she never thought she’d see again. A delighted smile broke out on her face before she cupped her hands and hollered, “ALFRED! ALFRED, OVER HERE!”

An elderly gentleman dressed in a fine suit looked over at her. His kind blue-grey eyes locked onto them and a smile crossed his face. He tapped two other men on the shoulders and pointed them in their direction. As the trio made their way over to them, Emilie felt her son press harder against her.

“Miss Emilie! Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you again. I hope your tastes haven’t changed too much since we last met. Dinner tonight is going to be soupe à l’oignon… a favorite of yours if Master Bruce remembered correctly,” the elderly man said, opening his arms wide.

Emilie genuinely laughed before hugging Alfred tight.

“I missed you too, Alfie,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wanted to come back so badly…”

Alfred gently rubbed Emilie’s back as the woman continued to hug him. He couldn’t help but note how...grown Emilie was. She was no longer that little girl chasing after Master Bruce. She was a grown woman, just a little shorter than Alfred himself. She had a child, who he assumed was the blond boy critically eying him. The distressing thing to Alfred was the fact that both mother and son were much too thin for his tastes. 

“Maman?”

Emilie immediately released Alfred and turned to Adrien. She gently grabbed her son’s hand and pulled him forward. She gave Marinette another reassuring smile before gesturing to her to come out from behind Adrien.

“Adrien, Marinette, this is Monsieur Alfred Pennyworth. He was practically like a second father to me growing up. He is the Wayne family’s butler, and he spent quite a bit of time chasing after me and Bruce when we were little,” Emilie said happily. “Alfred, this is my son Adrien. The young lady behind him is Mademoiselle Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Alfred smiled at the two children before extending his hand.

“Master Graham de Vanily, Miss Dupain-Cheng, it is wonderful to meet you,” he said softly. 

Marinette stepped forward and took the outstretched hand. She shook it carefully, smiling hesitantly. She cleared her throat before whispering, “Bonjour, Monsieur Pennyworth.”

Adrien glared for a few moments before hesitantly taking his hand after Marinette. Emilie breathed a sigh of relief as Adrien didn’t lash out. It probably helped that Alfred was smiling and speaking with Marinette about dinner, and the young girl seemed to relax. Alfred broached the topic of baking, and the dark haired young lady seemed more than happy to discuss it.

Emilie heard a cough and turned to the left. Her heart thudded violently in her chest as she met a pair of familiar icy blue eyes. 

“Hello, ma colombe,” a soft baritone voice said. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

———————

Bruce could feel his heart fluttering in his chest.

There she was.

She was waving her hand in an attempt to aid them in finding her. Her golden blonde hair was loose, falling in waves around her shoulders. Her green eyes were bright, and she had a beautiful smile on her heart shaped face. She looked positively delighted to see Alfred, her entire face lit up with happiness.

The children standing behind her though seemed more hesitant about their situation. The blonde boy was holding tightly onto her coat and seemed to be anxious. Bruce assumed that the boy was Emilie’s son, Adrien. The boy looked much like his mother, with the same golden blonde hair and bright green eyes. Bruce would guess he probably had his mother’s kind face where it not scrunched up in distrust and distress.

The young lady behind him was the smallest of the bunch. Bruce guessed the black haired little lady was Marinette. Her grey eyes were full of steel and resolve as she looked around them, as if she was trying to gauge if there were any threats around. There was a hesitant smile on her pretty face as she watched Emilie hug Alfred tightly.

“Maman.”

The boy didn’t seem as relaxed with the development as his friend was. Bruce watched Emilie turn around and introduce Adrien and Marinette to Alfred. Thankfully years of practice kicked in, and Alfred greeted the children in his softest voice. He held out his hand, and for a moment, Bruce was afraid that the children wouldn’t accept it.

Marinette proved herself to be a pillar of strength as she stepped out from behind her friend and his mother. She grabbed Alfred’s hand and shook it with purpose as she whispered her greetings. She had a sweet sounding voice, one that was soothing to hear. Once she was done, she stepped back looking at Adrien.

Adrien glared at Alfred for a few moments before taking his hand and shaking it as well. Adrien let go of Alfred’s hand and watched carefully as he engaged Marinette in conversation. The boy seemed to relax as his friend relaxed, gazing almost lovingly at her as her face lit up in excitement. A hesitant smile even appeared as Marinette giggled in delight at Alfred’s suggestion of teaching him how to make true French pastries. 

Bruce watched as Emilie relaxed, her shoulders no longer tense. He slowly began to walk towards her, not noticing the absence of his eldest child. He stopped just off to the side of her before coughing into his fist. He watched her beautiful green eyes turn to look at him. 

“Hello, ma colombe,” he said softly. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

He watched her smile widen almost sadly before she threw her arms around him tightly.

“Mon râleur,” she whispered, buiring her face in his chest. “Mon râleur, I missed you.”

Bruce gently wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, inhaling slowly. She was so small in comparison to him. She’d always been small, even when they were children, but she seemed so tiny now. She was thin, too thin, but he knew that Alfred would fix that quickly. She was still as warm as he remembered her being and just as strong. She still smelled like that lavender perfume she favored as a child...one his mother had introduced her too as a little girl. She was trembling in his arms, her fingers clenched in his coat.

Bruce gently ran his fingers through her hair, whispering his greetings to her. His eyes only left Emilie’s to quickly survey his surroundings. He noted that people were beginning to pay attention. They’d have to move quickly to avoid being surrounded by reporters. He also noted that Adrien was no longer smiling.

The young man was tense, and was intently watching Bruce. Bruce figured Adrien was not exactly happy with some strange man hugging his mother. After everything Emilie had told him about, he really couldn’t blame the young man for being suspicious. If someone had abused Martha, he was certain he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to touch his mother either.

Marinette had a hand gently gripping Adrien’s shoulder. She seemed to be trying to get Adrien to relax, but wasn’t having much success. Seeing the young woman’s face becoming more and more distressed, Bruce gently patted Emilie’s shoulder.

“Ma colombe,” he said quietly. “We should get moving before the reporters descend on us—”

Bruce was cut off by his phone ringing. He answered the call, seeing the caller ID as ‘Dick’.

_ “Bruce, you need to hurry! Someone’s tipped the press off that Bruce Wayne is meeting someone here. I’ve got the car ready. Thank Alfred later.” _

He hissed quietly, eyes locking with Emilie’s. He quickly thanked Dick, hanging up his phone. He gestured to Alfred, and the older man assisted the children with their bags.

“Someone tipped off the press. We need to move fast,” Bruce said quickly. “We’ll finish introductions in the car.”

Upon hearing the word press, Emilie’s expression changed drastically. The smile fell off her face as she shoved her bag in Bruce’s direction. He took it from her, slightly shocked, as she raced over to her kids. She wrapped her arms around Adrien and Marinette and hurried them towards the exit. The two children had their heads down, but Emilie had her head held high. Her green eyes turned venomous and people rushed to get out of her way.

Bruce and Alfred followed behind her without a word until they reached the exit. Alfred swiftly pointed out their vehicle, and Emilie pushed the children towards the car. Adrien took Marinette’s hand, and the pair quickly shuffled into the back row of the van.

Once the children were safely in the car, Emilie began to help Alfred and Bruce load up the trunk. Bruce had never seen Emilie move so fast and with such anxiety. Even when she was dating Gabriel, she hadn’t acted like this. Something had changed…

He didn’t have time to dwell on it as he could hear people whispering his name. Bruce stood in front of Emilie as she slid into the car, shielding her from sight. He climbed in after her, and Alfred got into the passenger’s seat beside his eldest. Once they were buckled, Dick quickly took off, trying not to give the reporters any time to catch on to whose van this was.

Bruce looked to Emilie, who was clutching something tightly against her chest. He looked at it for a moment, his brow furrowing.

Did Emilie always own a peacock brooch?

He didn’t remember her owning one before. He also doubted that it was a gift from Gabriel either. He remembered that she had gotten rid of the majority of what Gabriel had gifted her. So where did she get that brooch? And what was so important about it that Emilie’s hands kept returning to it every time she tried to settle down?

Bruce’s train of thought was broken by a firm, yet gentle voice.

“Excuse me, are you Monsieur Wayne? Emilie said we would be meeting you at the airport,” Marinette asked.

Bruce turned to face the two children in the backseats. Marinette’s grey eyes were focused on him intently, but they contained a cautious warmth to them. She seemed to be trying to make the best of this, despite being hesitant, and Bruce appreciated it.

“Yes, I am Bruce Wayne. Emilie, mentioned you during her phone calls as well. You’re Marinette, are you not? Emilie said you were an aspiring fashion designer. I’d love to see some of your work—”

“Ah, ah, Master Bruce,” Alfred interrupted. “Not until Miss Marinette shows me her skills in the kitchen. Emilie has mentioned that she makes exquisite baked goods, and I’d love to try some.”

“Ooo! You can bake, Miss Dupain-Cheng? I would love to try some as well,” the driver said excitedly. “Hi, I’m Richard Grayson, one of Bruce’s adopted sons. I’m the eldest, and everyone calls me Dick. It’s very nice to meet you both.”

Marinette’s face was almost entirely flushed, stammering and flustered. It seemed that the young lady was unused to getting this much positive attention. She seemed uncertain of how to cope with their interest, so Bruce changed his focus.

“And you must be Adrien,” Bruce said to the blond boy. “Your mother was right. You do look a great deal like your grandfather Graham de Vanily.”

This seemed to get Adrien’s attention. The boy looked at Bruce, surprised, before asking, “Did you know him?”

“Yes, I did. He was good friends with my father. He used to bring your mother to Gotham every summer. It was how we first met—”

“He complained the whole time,” Emilie laughed. “I think you were what, six years old? He complained to his mother that he didn’t want to play with a ‘little girl’.”

“And you proceeded to drag me around the manor for the rest of the day,” Bruce said fondly. “You got me into trouble—”

“I got you out of it!” Emilie interrupted. “Your mom couldn’t stay mad at you when I started crying about how the flowers were all my fault.”

“Your father was so apologetic,” Alfred said with a smile. “He couldn’t believe you’d manipulated young Master Bruce into picking his mother’s tulips.”

“Wait, wait, WAIT! Are you telling me that Bruce, Mr. Serious Grumpypants, was actually a kid once? He wasn’t always a hardass?” Dick said incredulously.

“Oh, he was always grumpy,” Emilie giggled. “Why do you think I call him my complainer? But yes, I was a very persuasive playmate. We got into all sorts of trouble, didn’t we, Alfred?”

“Absolutely,” Alfred sighed. “Gave me grey hairs early.”

As Alfred and Emilie recounted more childhood stories, Bruce looked at the children. Marinette was smiling now, more relaxed than before. She was leaning against Adrien, who also appeared to be more relaxed. He was smiling as he watched his mother talk with Dick and Alfred.

Dick himself seemed to be having a ball. The young man seemed to take to Emilie the second Alfred backed up her stories, but that didn’t surprise Bruce. All of his boys respected Alfred, so if Alfred liked someone, so did they. Alfred loved Emilie, so Dick was more than willing to give her a chance. Bruce also knew his son was excited to learn new things he could torment him about.

Emilie had just finished the story of how she and Bruce had smuggled a kitten into the manner behind their parents’ backs when he heard Adrien laugh for the first time.

Right after his eldest had made a cat-pun.

“You’re right. It sounds like Maman and Mr. Wayne weren’t kitten around!” Adrien replied.

Dick’s grin grew wider as he began using more puns. Adrien seemed to be right behind him. The two shared puns back and forth while Emilie laughed. Bruce rolled his eyes and shared a pained look with Marinette. Poor girl looked close to screaming, her left eye twitching.

“I’m sorry about Dick,” he said quietly.

Marinette gave him a defeated sigh.

“It’s fine...Adrien’s entire sense of humor is puns…” she said.

Bruce almost put his head in his hands, and he could see Marinette struggling not to bang her head against the seat. On the one hand, he was very happy to see Dick and Adrien getting along. On the other hand...there were now  _ two _ pun-loving beings in his home.

Oh God, Damian was going to kill them...or him.

Only time would tell exactly who his youngest son would target.

Maybe he should talk to Alfred about that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maman- mother
> 
> Ma colombe- my dove
> 
> Mon râleur- my grumpy, my complainer


	6. Damian Isn't Sure About This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christ on a crutch, I'm so sorry that this has taken me over a month to update! I got caught up with Maribat March, grad school, and the virus taking over my existence. 
> 
> Thanks for your continued support, and I hope you like the next chapter. I promise the next chapter is just Bruce and Em interacting.

Damian Wayne was not a happy camper.

He had no idea what his father was thinking, allowing three strangers into their home! It was bad enough he had to co-exist with his siblings, but adding three more people into the mix was going to be a nightmare. His siblings knew about, and participated in, their nightly activities. How were they going to explain to their three guests why their hosts disappeared every night? Would Bruce be benching some of them to watch after their guests?

The biggest issue on Damian’s mind was what would happen if these three people discovered who they were.

Jon, on the other hand, was bouncing excitedly next to him.

“It’s so cool that your dad’s letting me stay here for a bit! What do you think the new kids will be like?” the dark haired boy asked. 

“Annoying and a burden,” Damian growled. “Why are you staying here? You have a home to go to!”

“Yeah, but Uncle Bruce and Dad thought it’d be better if I hung out with you while everyone was getting adjusted,” Jon replied. “That way we can hang out if the other kids start annoying you—”

Jon trailed off, tilting his head to the side. Damian’s head shot up, waiting for the half-kryptonian to tell him what was happening. Jon’s face split in a wide grin as he said, “Sounds like your dad’s home. I think things aren’t going to be as bad as you think...Dick’s laughing. He sounds really happy.”

The other boy’s green eyes narrowed in thought. Grayson wasn’t stupid. He was the most social of the family, and the easiest to get along with, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew how to keep his guard up, and his loyalty to their family was absolute. He wouldn’t welcome outsiders in without assessing them first. Perhaps they appeared to be harmless? Or perhaps Dick was trying to lull them into a false sense of security to see if they had anything to hide?

Jon nudged Damian before suggesting that they go greet them. Damian grumbled, getting out of his chair half-heartedly. He knew that if he didn’t go, Jon would just scoop him up and carry him downstairs. He didn’t need to greet the new occupants of the house that way. They needed to know that Damian was to be respected and being carted around by his best friend  _ wasn’t _ the first impression he wanted to make.

The half-kryptonian darted ahead of him. Jon was bouncing on his heels as he jumped down the stairs. He had made it to the bottom by the time the door began to open. His blue eyes darted behind him to see that Damian was still making his way down the stairs when Dick walked in.

“Hey Dick! How was the airport?” Jon asked, looking around as Alfred and Bruce walked in.

“It wasn’t bad...at least until the press decided to show up. Thankfully, they didn’t find us, but I’m pretty sure Bruce is still going to grill the airline staff to see who blabbed,” the man said with a grin. “Adrien, Marinette, Emilie, this is Jonathan Kent. He’s the son of a family friend of ours, and my youngest brother’s best friend.”

A pretty blonde woman stepped forward first. She smiled brightly at Jon and held out her hand.

“Hello, Jon. My name is Emilie Graham de Vanily,” she greeted with a gentle voice. “It’s very nice to meet you. The boy behind me is my son, Adrien. The young lady beside him is Marinette.”

Jon shook her hand gently, fighting down the horror he was feeling.

Why did they look so  _ broken _ ?

He had used his x-ray vision on them to see if there was anything he needed to concern himself with— oh God, Damian was rubbing off on him— and the result wasn’t what he’d been expecting. There was residual scarring on their bones from where fractures had once been, which wasn’t entirely odd as most humans had broken a bone at least once in their lives. Damian and his brothers had plenty of similar looking breaks on their bones. A lot of  _ superheroes _ had fracture heals all over them, some of them even having medical implants to stabilize some of the former injuries.

What wasn’t right was the fact this woman’s  _ cervical _ vertebrae showed signs of healed fractures...as well as her hyoid bone. This woman’s throat showed signs of having once been  _ crushed _ , and her neck  _ snapped _ . The left side of her ribcage looked like it had once been nearly shattered. Wounds like that should have  _ killed  _ her!

How would a civilian even  _ get _ these kinds of injuries?

It wasn’t just the woman either.

The blond boy, who Emilie had introduced as her son, had  _ several  _ fractures along his  _ spine  _ that should have been debilitating. His ribs also looked worse for wear, making Jon distressed. His body was being held together by  _ something _ , but what it was Jon didn't  _ know  _ what. His body seemed to be  _ knitted together _ by something that was keeping him alive despite his injuries. 

He felt his stomach  _ turn _ as he realized the pattern continued with the girl too. Jon fought to keep the smile on his face as he responded, "Hi, Miss Graham de Vanily. It's very nice to meet you. Heya, Marinette and Adrien."

Damian had finally made his way into the foyer, pausing as he noticed Jon's look of fake happiness. His green eyes narrowed before looking at his eldest brother. The older man shrugged in response to his glare before smiling and saying, "Introduce yourself.”

“Hello, my name is Damian Wayne,” he said.

The blonde haired woman held out her hand towards Damian before smiling  _ fondly _ at him.

“Hello, Damian. It’s very nice to meet you. You look so much like your father did at your age,” Emilie said.

Damian hummed in response, shaking the woman’s hand. He mentally noted that she didn’t  _ seem _ threatening. She looked like...like a stereotypical mom. She was wearing a cream colored knit sweater, a black pencil skirt, and black heels. She had a smile that seemed genuine in its warmth, and Damian was a little surprised. 

The blonde haired woman wasn’t the type of woman his father typically went after. She was probably the same height as Tim, and she was built rather thinly. She didn’t look very strong or intimidating, but perhaps it was more of a mental thing? Perhaps her personality? Simply the fact they were childhood friends?

Damian honestly didn’t think his father could do worse considering his list of lovers included an assassin, a thief, and several other high society women with questionable morals and ethics. Perhaps she wouldn’t try to kill or rob them? Time would only tell on that.

“Thank you, Miss Graham de Vanily,” he said with his ‘fake nice’ smile. “I don’t think Father’s words did you justice. You’re absolutely lovely.”

Something flashed in Emilie’s eyes, making Damian pause for a moment, but the woman just laughed. She released Damian’s hand and turned to look at the children who came with her. She gently kissed the blond boy’s cheek before moving to help with the bags his father and Alfred were bringing in. She had begun to chat with Dick again, who seemed more than happy to carry on a conversation with her.

Damian’s green eyes turned on the two other teens who were remaining silent as the adults carried on a conversation. The blond boy’s equally green eyes scanned over him and Jon, and Damian noted how his gaze seemed to falter on Jon. The blond’s face heated up a little bit before he coughed into his fist.

“Hi, I’m Adrien as my maman mentioned,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you, Damian and Jon.”

Damian nodded in response. He was beginning to potentially see Jon’s concerns...or understand why perhaps Jon had some. Adrien was way too tense and vigilant for a normal teenager. His head seemed to move at the slightest of sounds, and his green gaze didn’t stay fixed on one thing too long. He seemed hyper-aware of things, catching his mother’s purse before it could fall off a suitcase, despite having to nearly  _ dive backward _ to accomplish the task.

The only people Damian knew like that were people who’d suffered severe trauma or people who fought for a living.

Something had to have happened to Adrien to make him so vigilant and potentially hostile. His mother seemed relaxed, but Damian noticed that her lack of hesitance made her son irritated. Every time Bruce wrapped his arm around Emilie, Adrien tensed up like a spring coil. The boy seemed to want to rip Emilie out of his father’s grasp, and appeared to be getting more and more agitated the longer they were near one another.

“Pardon? I don’t mean to be rude, but are our rooms ready? I’m feeling a little jetlagged,” the dark haired teen asked quietly, stifling a yawn.

Damian’s attention was pulled away from Adrien and towards the other teen.

His stomach churned as he gazed upon one of the  _ tiniest _ people he’d ever met.

She was smaller than  _ Cassandra _ , who was arguably the smallest of the Bats at five foot five inches tall. If Damian had to guess, he was certain this girl  _ barely _ reached five feet in height. She looked like she weighed nothing as well, probably a hundred pounds soaking wet. She was practically hidden behind the Adrien, but it didn’t seem to be out of fear.

No, it looked like she was simply using Adrien as a post to  _ lean _ against.

Her grey-blue eyes were almost  _ shut _ as the teen struggled to stay awake. She had dark bags under her eyes, giving Damian the impression she hadn’t slept well in  _ weeks _ . He wasn’t entirely certain  _ why _ , but he wanted to wrap her up and make her go to  _ sleep _ . She looked worse than  _ Tim _ , and that was an  _ accomplishment _ . He didn’t think  _ anyone _ could look more stressed out and sleep-deprived than his older brother working on a case.

“Alfred, which guest rooms did you put them in?” Damian asked, much to the surprise of Dick and Bruce.

“East wing of the house, Master Damian,” Alfred responded. “Just past Master Jason’s room.”

“Thank you, Alfred. C’mon, grab your bags, and I’ll show you to your rooms. Ms. Graham de Vanily, will you be joining us?” Damian said, still keeping his air of politeness on.

“Thank you for the offer, Damian, but I believe I’ll stick around for right now. I have a lot of catching up to do with your father and Alfred,” Emilie answered, smiling at Bruce.

Damian resisted the urge to make a gagging noise when his father smiled back. It was times like these were he really wished he knew less about his father’s romantic life. He prayed his father had the common sense  _ not _ to sleep with the childhood friend he’d just been reunited with. Damian prayed  _ hard _ because he knew his father was enamored with the woman just by the sappy looks he gave her. His father had had his heart shattered more than once, but Selina seemed to leave him a  _ wreck _ with how fast and hard he’d fallen for her.

The sixteen year old  _ never _ wanted to see his father so devastated again.

He also knew that if his father moved too fast with Ms. Graham de Vanily, that’s  _ exactly _ what would happen.

Damian sent Alfred a pointed look which Alfred returned with the raise of a single eyebrow as if to say ‘How stupid do you believe I am, Master Damian?’. 

He turned his attention back to Adrien and the tiny girl...Marinette if he recalled. Adrien seemed to be trying to keep Marinette awake while she groaned at him. He tried pushing her off of him three times before deciding that poking her cheek would be the best course of action. She grimaced at the pokes, whining until he poked her near her eye. She then smacked his hand away in irritation before hissing with a surprising amount of venom, “Either _ give me coffee _ or let me  _ go the fuck to sleep _ .”

“Buginette, I need to carry my suitcases and so do you—”

“I can carry them!” Jon interrupted. “If she’s really that tired, she probably shouldn’t be carrying heavy things. She could fall and hurt herself on the stairs.”

Damian looked at Jon, but the other simply shook his head. Jon grabbed Marinette’s suitcases and gestured towards the main staircase with his head.

“I’ve been here plenty of times, so I know where the rooms are. Follow me! Dames will make sure Marinette gets up the stairs just fine,” Jon said cheerfully.

Adrien’s face turned a little pink as he nodded mutely at Jon. A sleepy giggle was heard coming from behind Adrien. Marinette whispered something, and Adrien’s face went  _ scarlet _ before he hissed something back at her. He pushed her off of him, this time with more success. He huffed before hurrying towards Jon, muttering how he was tired and wanted to get some sleep. He seemed to brighten up a little bit when Jon started telling him about Metropolis as they headed up the stairs, leaving Damian with Marinette and the others.

“Marinette,” Emilie began sternly.

“ _ I was just teasing him. Jon is very cute after all. Not my type, but cute all the same, _ ” Marinette said with a shrug. “ _ It’s obvious Adrien thinks he’s cute, and I find that adorable.” _

Emilie sighed before replying, “ _ Marinette, let Adrien figure out how he feels before you tease him.” _

_ “Fair enough. I’ll stop for now.” _

Marinette yawned, not realizing that the other occupants in the room had at least a basic understanding of French. She didn’t seem to notice Damian’s dawning look of comprehension as he digested her words about what the blond thought of his best friend. She simply smiled at him before asking if they were going to head up now too.

Damian nodded before holding out his arm to her. From the way she was swaying slightly in her spot, he figured it would probably be best and result in fewer injuries if he allowed her to use him for support. After all, she was a guest, and Alfred would have his head if he allowed a guest to injure herself. 

What he wasn’t expecting was the fluttering feeling in his stomach to come back with a  _ vengeance _ upon her taking his arm.

She was so  _ warm _ .

Damian blinked in shock, looking down at the girl who’d latched herself onto his arm. Her weight was almost nothing pressed against him, and he was acutely aware of just how  _ close _ she was to him. She leaned her head against his shoulder and yawned again. He gently began to pull her forwards towards the staircase, moving slowly to make sure she didn’t trip on anything. 

He didn’t look back as he led Marinette up the stairs, too afraid of making eye contact with Dick. He knew his older brother would tease him  _ relentlessly _ once he’d gotten the French teen into her room.

As they disappeared up the stairs, Emile shook her head in a fond way before looking at Bruce. 

"He's  _ definitely  _ your son, brooding and all," she laughed. 

"Is that a bad or a good thing?"

"We'll see."


	7. Things Have Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie gets to talk to Bruce...
> 
> But Bruce has things to tell her about some old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for sticking around! I promise I'm working on The Head Omega. I've just hit a couple of writing blocks due to the whole COVID situation. I've had my finals for my spring graduate classes and started summer classes in such a short period of time. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next installment! Hang on everyone, we're gonna make it through this!

Emilie couldn't help but laugh once the youngest Wayne had disappeared up the steps with Marinette.

That look on Damian’s face really took her back to when she and Bruce were teenagers, before she met Gabriel. Bruce had never been particularly good with expressing his emotions, but Emilie was a patient person. When they were children, it was easier to deal with because when Bruce always had an understanding of what was going on. He knew how to deal with the problem because Emilie would tell him when his actions upset her.

Then they got older, and Emilie started long-distance dating a boy in Bruce’s class. Suddenly, Bruce (or her father) were no longer the only potential sources of conflict. Bruce had dealt with it with as much grace as he could, but Emilie knew he’d struggled at times.

The first time she had seen that 'I have no idea what the socially acceptable response is, but I don't want to make it worse, help' look was the day she'd broken up with that kid.

Emilie's boyfriend hadn't liked how close she and Bruce were. Despite her constant reassurances that she and Bruce were only friends, her boyfriend had refused to let the issue go. He had told Emilie that he could never be sure she wasn’t cheating on him if she hung out with Bruce all the time. He had then given her an ultimatum— him or Bruce. 

Emilie had chosen Bruce without hesitation, as they were best friends, but the breakup still hurt. She couldn’t believe that her boyfriend had thought so  _ little _ of her! How could he accuse her of cheating on him! How could he honestly believe that anything was going on with her best friend when she went out of her way to make sure  _ everyone _ knew she wasn’t Bruce’s girlfriend.

Feeling betrayed and upset, she'd run to the only source of comfort she had in the states.

Boy, had poor Bruce been so  _ confused _ .

The teenager had had little idea of what to do with his sobbing best friend. Bruce’s first response had been to demand to know if she was hurt in any way. After establishing Emilie was not physically hurt, he had asked her if he’d done something to upset her. After all, she had burst into the manor, so he must have done something wrong, right?

Emilie had told him everything her boyfriend had said to her, buiring her face in his chest. She had still been crying when she asked Bruce if she was really that untrustworthy. She’d looked so torn up and  _ brokenhearted _ , and he’d had no idea how to respond.

He'd eventually settled for hugging her tightly and figuring out what to say later. The expression he'd made while trying to decide what to do (accompanied by several  _ frantic _ looks in Alfred’s direction) had caused Emilie to burst out into watery laughter. That had confused Bruce  _ even more _ , so the panicked look became more clear. This had caused her to laugh even harder. 

"I told you I broke up with my boyfriend, mon râleur, not that I'm dying," the blonde had ended up explaining. "No need for such panic and seriousness."

It had gotten him to relax, if only slightly. He'd taken her to get ice cream after she'd finished crying. Bruce had made sure that all her needs were met, and Emilie had realized that maybe her ex had had a point.

Bruce had always looked at her with a fondness he didn’t have with others.

She’d always had that fondness for him too.

And now Damian was wearing the same expression, clearly confused as to why he  _ cared _ about this stranger.

Emilie’s green eyes did a quick scan of the room, trying to decipher what the current mood was. As she had predicted, Alfred was smiling with that knowing look she knew all too well. Bruce, one again as she’d predicted, looked relatively confused and perhaps a bit shocked, still looking at the staircase his youngest child had just disappeared up.

Dick looked like Christmas had come early for him. It was clear to Emilie that he knew  _ exactly _ what was occurring, whether his father or youngest brother knew it. The blonde fixed Dick with the same stern look she’d given Marinette earlier when she teased Adrien. 

"That poor boy isn't going to know what hit him. Dick, do not tease him about it just yet. Like I told Marinette, let him figure out his feelings before you tease him," Emilie said as her good humor tapered out. 

"Aw, but how's he going to figure it out if I don't tease--" Dick began. 

"The same way Harvey figured out he was crazy about this girl in his law class— experience. If he asks, you can help, but leave him to sort things out," she interrupted, putting her hands on her hips. “Pushing him before he’s ready will only cause problems. Harv made an  _ ass _ out of himself before finally realizing he was an idiot, and it ruined his chances of getting a date with that girl.”

Emilie's expression became thoughtful for a moment. Her green eyes turned to Bruce before she asked, "Whatever happened to Harv, Bruce? And that psychiatry student, Harleen?"

She noted how Dick froze for a moment, and Alfred silently exited the room. The younger man's smile dimmed before he grabbed Emilie's luggage. He was trying to fake his previous smile which made Emilie’s stomach sink slightly.

"B, I'm going to take Emilie's stuff up to her room. I'll keep an eye on the kids too," he said with a solemn look.

Why did Dick look so serious?

As Dick disappeared up the staircase, Emily returned her focus to Bruce. She felt anxiety shoot through her veins as she took her childhood friend in. The lack of Alfred also made her feeling of dread increase. What had happened? What had happened to her friends while she was gone? 

Bruce looked so  _ sad _ and  _ angry _ . His entire body was as taught as a wire. In his eyes there was  _ guilt _ , and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest. It looked like he was struggling to find the words he needed, but he didn’t break eye-contact with her. He took a deep breath before holding out his hand. 

“Let’s go to the living room. We...we have a lot to catch up on,” he said quietly.

Emilie felt the feelings of anxiety increase as she took his hand. She followed him into the living room, holding his hand tightly. She allowed Bruce to gently maneuver her onto the couch. She remained focused on Bruce’s face, trying to fight the overwhelming urge to run away. She knew something bad had happened. She couldn’t explain how she knew, but she could feel it in her gut.

Bruce held her hand tight as he sat down next to her. He knew this would be difficult, but she needed to know. She needed to know what had happened to her old friends. She needed to hear it from  _ him _ , not Kate. He knew Kate would have little problem telling Emilie what had happened, self-assured that she was doing the right thing by their old friend.

This is not to suggest that Kate would be unkind. Kate would take Emilie’s feelings into consideration, but she would have told Emilie as bluntly as possible to avoid any miscommunications. Kate would tell Emilie things regardless of whether it was hers to tell, but Bruce recognized that  _ he  _ was responsible for telling Emilie about their mutual friends. Kate hadn’t been there— Bruce had.

“What I have to say...it isn’t going to be easy...a lot happened after you left,” he began, slowly rubbing his thumb against her hand.

“What happened to Harv and Harls, Bruce? They’re...they’re not—”

“They’re not dead, but they aren’t our Harv and Harls anymore. Harvey had obtained his dream job. He became Gotham’s youngest district attorney at the age of 26. He was amazing, Em. He was one of the best district attorneys Gotham had ever seen...until the mob got to him. He was pursuing a lead on the Maroni and Thorne crime families—”

“You said he wasn’t dead, Bruce!”

“...he’s not. However, half of his body was irreparably scarred. Harvey...Harvey didn’t cope with it well. He changed after that. He became more erratic...more dangerous. I tried to get him to get help, Em, I really did. He wouldn’t go, and he’s very unwell. He became the crime lord known as Two-Face. He’s been terrorizing Gotham on and off between his stays at Arkham Asylum.”

Emilie blinked in confusion until Bruce finally released her hand. He pulled out his cellphone and pulled up an article dated as being posted some time last week. He handed the phone to her, and she began to read the article, feeling her sense of horror grow with every passing moment.

Harvey Dent had a temper, and the blonde  _ knew _ that. She also knew that  _ her _ Harvey always tried to be a  _ good _ person.  _ Her _ Harvey practiced relaxation techniques to keep his temper in check.  _ Her _ Harvey worked hard to get what he wanted and played fair.  _ Her _ Harvey would  _ never _ commit a crime!

And yet she couldn’t deny that the man in the photos was Harvey Dent.

The same Harvey Dent who picked her flowers on the anniversary of her parents divorce. The same Harvey Dent who went out of his way to make Bruce laugh. The same Harvey Dent who gave her boyfriends the shovel talk while referring to her as his sister. The same Harvey Dent who gladly stood in the limelight when Bruce wanted to hide away. 

Emilie felt tears well up in her eyes as she realized Harvey was  _ gone _ . The Harvey Dent who looked out for Bruce and Emilie had been warped and changed. He’d never again attend parties with them. He’d never go out drinking with them again. He’d never hug her and call her his ‘baby sister’ again. That Harvey was  _ gone _ forever, and she would never be able to say goodbye.

...and if this was what happened to Harvey, what had happened to Harleen?

“Harleen?” Emilie managed to choke out.

“She’s now a criminal too. She—”

Bruce stopped, gazing into Emilie’s eyes. He was uncertain about something, which made feelings of irritation flare up. Was he uncertain about telling her what was going on? Was he uncertain that she could handle it? Why wasn’t he just telling her!

“Bruce, tell me what happened to Harleen, **now** ,” she said, her voice shockingly firm.

“Harleen was abused, Em. She fell in love with a psychopath who knew how to manipulate her into doing his bidding. She lost herself...and we lost her. The last time I’d spoken to Harley, she’d just gotten her internship at Arkham approved. I don’t know what happened after that,” he responded, his voice just above a whisper.

Emilie felt her blood run cold.

Her breath began to catch in her throat as she struggled to process what was going on. Harley...Harley had turned into a criminal through  _ abuse _ . She believed this man  _ loved _ her, and he’d  _ used  _ that to hurt her. Could that have happened to her? Could Gabriel had done to her what this man had done to Harley? 

Could Gabriel still do this?

Could Gabriel’s choices still influence her?

What if Gabriel escaped from prison?

What if Gabriel came back for her?

Emilie’s vision began to blur as tears poured down her face. Her chest began to ache as she struggled to suck in air. She was shaking, fingers clenching the end of her sweater. She began to fold into herself, the fear of him coming back for her returning.

She wasn’t safe.

He’d come back for her.

He’d already killed her  _ once _ for leaving.

He’d do it again—

The soft material of her sweater was replaced by warm, calloused hands.

She stared at the hands now cradling hers. The hands were loosely holding hers. If she wanted to, she could easily move her hands out of the grasp. The hands showed signs of wear and there were small scars that were splashed across his skin. She traced each little scar with her eyes before looking up at the person who was holding her hands.

Instead of white-blond hair, she was greeted with a head of black hair. The blue eyes staring back at her were full of light and a concerned warmth. The man was broad shouldered, and Gabriel was  _ not _ . He seemed to be talking to her, despite the fact that Emilie could not hear him.

“—ilie, Emilie. Emilie, can you hear me? Emilie, I need you to come back to me. Squeeze my hands if you can hear me.”

Emilie tightened her grip on his hands. She took a shuddering breath, feeling oxygen rushing into her lungs. She focused on the sound of his voice and his instructions. He was coaching her through her breathing, and soon, Emilie found the lightheadedness disappearing.

“Emilie, it’s me. It’s Bruce. You’re going to be okay, Emilie,” he whispered, gently pulling her close.

She inhaled, catching the scent of a cologne. It smelled like eucalyptus and mint and was surprisingly relaxing. It was a far cry from the scents Gabriel had preferred. She buried her head into Bruce’s shoulder, trying to anchor herself back into the present. She felt him wrap his arms around her lightly, being oh so gentle with his movements.

He kissed the top of her head before gently rocking her back and forth. Emilie pressed herself against Bruce, searching out the safety she recalled from her childhood. She just wanted to feel safe. She  _ needed _ to feel safe. She  _ needed _ something familiar to keep her from drifting away in the sea of unpredictability that was life.

Too many things were changing.

Too many things had already changed without her knowledge.

She needed one thing to be the same.

“I’m right here, Emilie. I’m not going anywhere. Go ahead, let it out.”

For the first time, since before her death, Emilie allowed herself to  _ cry _ in the safety of her best friend’s arms.


	8. Continue On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm still on the struggle bus, but I finally finished this chapter????
> 
> Bruce deals with the aftermath and tries to let Emilie know she's safe.

Bruce knew this was going to be painful, but he had underestimated just how much his heart would break. Seeing Emilie’s tears ripped the old wounds wide open as he had watched the light leave her eyes. He had had time to cope with the fact Harvey and Harleen were not the people they once were. He had mourned—while still holding onto the hope that maybe he could at least bring Harleen back— and tried to move on. It still stung at times, but he could deal with it better now.

Emily hadn’t had that time.

Everything she knew had been ripped away.

The man who swore to love her had psychologically tortured her, and when that didn’t work, he had resorted to violence. He’d locked her up in a little room, and he had then proceeded to psychologically harm her precious baby. She had been powerless to help her son once she was caged, and it _showed_. 

Bruce knew Emilie's ease with them was a front.

Despite truly being happy to be back in Gotham, she had been tense since she arrived. She had been looking around quite fervently, as if she were afraid someone was going to pop out at any second. She had also been comforting the children by keeping them close and giving them the smile that said 'I'm really scared but trying not to show it'.

Bruce doubted the children knew what that smile meant, and it seemed they'd taken it in a reassuring way. Her body language had been battling between relaxed and frightened, betraying her struggle to stay strong for the two teenagers behind her. Her hugs had betrayed how frightened she still was, and how much faith she put in Bruce and Alfred.

Emilie had clung to him and Alfred much like a child looking for safety. Her grip had suggested that she was almost afraid to let go, as if they'd disappear, and she’d be alone in her struggle again. She hadn't wanted to leave their embrace, searching for the feelings of safety and love she remembered from her childhood. 

Now some of that memory had been tainted by the knowledge two of her closest friends were no longer the people she once knew.

He knew that would haunt her.   
  
Bruce held her tightly, rubbing circles slowly into her back as she sobbed with all she had. His heart ached with every choked cry that spilled from her throat. He wasn't sure what to do except hold the trembling woman close until she'd exhausted her tears. He knew there wasn't anything he could say to make this any easier for her. He just continued to alternate between kissing the top of her head and tucking her head under his chin, hoping that he could provide just a little bit of comfort.

He then shifted his attention to focus on the woman herself.

Emilie was much too small, even for her size. He could feel her bones under the thin layer of muscle she possessed, but she barely had any fat to her. She looked rather pale, and her eyes had terrible bags under them. It was clear she hadn't been sleeping well, and he felt concern welling up in his chest. 

Just what had Gabriel _done_ to her when he held her in captivity?

Before he could lose himself to that train of thought, a furry figure came into view.

Bruce was surprised to see Damian’s great dane, Titus, standing in front of them. The black hound sniffed at Emilie for a few minutes before nuzzling his snout against her leg. He whined and pawed at the woman until the blonde looked over at him. His tail began to wag as he noticed Emilie was now paying attention to him. 

Titus began sniffing at Emilie again, his tail wagging faster, before licking her arm. He alternated between licks and nuzzling her arm. Titus let out more short barks and whines as he tried to bury his muzzle under her arm. He was desperately trying to lift Emilie's hand up so he could receive pets.

Bruce watched in quiet awe as Emilie perked up at the sight of Titus. Her tears abated as she watched the big dog try to get her attention and some affection. She held out her hand slowly and waited for Titus to sniff at it. Once Titus began licking her fingers, Emilie felt she had the go ahead to pet the hound. She gently scratched behind his ears, starting to coo at the big dog. She sniffled a few more times before sitting up so she could pet Titus better. 

The dog laid his head on her lap, tail wagging as he basked in the attention the woman was giving him.

Emilie let out a watery laugh before she said, "Alfred still lets you keep pets around the house, huh? Thought he would've cracked down on that after you and I brought in all those strays."

"It was a close call, but we won him over. This is Titus. He's Damian’s dog," Bruce replied. "Emilie—"

"Mon râleur, it's okay. Thank you for telling me."

Bruce wanted to scream that it wasn't as he saw the pain in her eyes, but he kept himself silent. He sat quietly for a few moments, keeping one arm wrapped tightly around Emilie’s waist, as he watched her take comfort in the large hound’s affections. He still wasn’t sure what to do or say now that everything was out in the open. Nothing would make the truth better, but at least it seemed like Emilie wasn’t holding the truth against him. Bruce knew he probably shouldn’t press for now. He knew she’d need time to fully process everything that had changed, not to mention the probable culture shock she and the children would go through.

“Em, why don’t I show you to your room?” he suggested, watching Emilie’s eyelids begin to droop. “You should get some rest. You’re safe in my home, I promise you that.”

“But the kids—”

“Jon and Damian will make sure they get to their rooms. Jason and Tim are hopefully both asleep, so you can meet them later. Alfred will wake you up for dinner, and then you can get the kids,” Bruce murmured reassuringly.

“Jason and Tim?” she mumbled, raising a tired eyebrow.

“Dick is my eldest adopted son, followed by Jason and then Tim. Jason was in a motorcycle accident and ended up needing stitches and some painkillers. He’s been sleeping his injuries off. Tim has been nice enough to help take care of his brother, so he’s been a little worn out.”

Emilie nodded, letting out a soft hum under her breath, before asking, “Who’s the fifth then?”

“I have a daughter, Cassandra, was also adopted. She’s currently having a girls’ night with Kate, so you probably won’t meet her today.”

“Kate’s around?” Emilie asked, her eyes brightening.

Bruce chuckled before replying, “Yeah, Kate’s around. We settled some of our differences once I started adopting the kids. She’ll be happy to see you. According to her, you're the only Wayne with some sense, and you’re an honorary Wayne.”

Emilie giggled before letting out a yawn. She gave Titus a few more pets before agreeing that she should get some rest. She was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster she’d just experienced. She knew the roller coaster wasn’t over, but she would need to sleep before she could even begin to think through all of her conflicting emotions.

He adjusted his arm to wrap around Emilie’s shoulders as he gently guided her towards the staircase. Blue eyes were careful to watch every movement the woman made, looking for signs to indicate imminent unconsciousness. She looked so frail to him at the moment that he was worried she would collapse on the way up the stairs. He didn’t want to pick her up and carry her, however. He wasn’t sure how she would react, and he didn’t want to trigger any distressing memories for her. 

They slowly descended up the staircase with Titus following right behind them. The hound seemed to not want to leave Emilie as he trotted up the stairs in the space Bruce wasn’t occupying. Bruce noticed that Emilie seemed amused by Titus, so he didn't shoo him away. 

Bruce also made sure to purposefully stop by Marinette’s and Adrien’s rooms. Marinette’s door was cracked slightly, and the two adults could see her curled up on the bed. She looked to be fast asleep with a fuzzy body next to her. Bruce was easily able to identify that fluff ball as Alfred the Cat, though he was surprised Damian's little hell beast was willing to sleep near anyone that _wasn't_ his son. 

Adrien’s door was wide open when they passed by. Emilie smiled and waved at her son as well as Jon. The dark haired boy was sitting on the floor while Adrien unpacked. He'd been answering the blond's questions about his relationship to Bruce when they had made their presence known. 

"My parents are real famous reporters in the States," Jon shrugged. "Bruce is a rich guy with a soul, so sometimes he ends up on more than just the tabloids. My mom's written several stories about him, and how he's refused several shady deals from Lex Corp."

"Lex Corp?"

"Big business that likes to ignore public health, environmental laws, and occasionally commits stuff like fraud or money laundering."

"Aaaah, say no more," Adrien hummed. "I know the type."

Emilie had grimaced at that, looking guilty. Bruce knew that Gabriel had broken several child protection laws when it came to his son modeling for him. Gabriel probably wasn't that different then Lex Luthor if Bruce was being honest. He gently squeezed her shoulder before whispering, "He's safe now...Gabriel can't get him here."

Emilie nodded with unshed tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. She then told the boys she'd be going to lay down for a bit before dinner. She didn't miss the way her son's eyes had narrowed at Bruce when she said that, but she chose to ignore it for now. She was too tired to possibly fight with her son. 

In a show of good faith, Bruce asked Jon where Damian and Dick had gone. 

"After I show Emilie to her room, I need to talk to Damian about the possibility of Adrien and Marinette joining him at Gotham Academy. Then I need to see Dick about when Kor'i and Mar'i are planning to stop by. I promised Mar'i we'd go to the zoo, so I want to make sure I don't have any meetings," the man said.

"Dames went to go talk to Alfred, so he's probably in the kitchen. I think Dick is helping Tim change Jason’s bandages so he doesn't rip his stitches—"

"Stitches?" Adrien asked, voice low.

Jon seemed to pick up on the other's anxiety, responding before Bruce could. 

"Damian and Dick have two other brothers. Jason is the second oldest, and he likes motorcycles. He wrecked his bike pretty badly a few weeks back, and he's still recovering. It would help if he'd stay on bed rest so he wouldn't keep _ripping_ said stitches," the half-kryptonian supplied, rolling his eyes. "Tim is next in the order of ages, and he's been helping Alfred with Jason to make things easier."

This answer seemed to pacify Adrien, and the blond relaxed minutely. He went back to unpacking, and Jon continued to chatter at the withdrawn blond. Emilie sagged in relief against Bruce before the pair continued on towards Emilie's room. 

Bruce was careful with his movements, noting how if he moved too fast, Emilie would flinch. It made his blood boil to think that Gabriel had reduced his vivacious and outgoing friend to the exhausted and battered woman standing before him. He knew she was keeping him close to try to establish a sense of familiarity. She was also keeping him close because if he was close to her then she could put herself between him and her children. 

He'd seen it plenty of times as Batman to not recognize it. 

People knew the Dark Knight didn't harm children, but after suffering for so long, mothers were still hesitant around him. It didn't matter how softly he spoke to them or how slowly he moved. There would always be that hesitance in mothers who genuinely cared for their child or children's safety. They would put themselves between the Batman and their children, ready to throw hands or step in to take the beating in a second if it came down to it. 

Bruce tried to ignore how much that stung, reminding himself mentally that it was a result of prolonged trauma. He needed to re-prove himself to Emilie that he wouldn't dream of hurting her or the two children in her care. He also knew he'd need to prove himself to Marinette and Adrien. He was a stranger to them, and it made perfect sense they were tense in a new situation. 

The dark haired man pushed his thoughts to the back of his head as he opened the door to Emilie's room. Blue eyes immediately spotted her luggage which meant Dick had dropped them off before going to wrestle his younger brother into submission. He watched her closely, choosing to linger in the doorway. He mourned the loss of warmth at his side, but he acknowledged that this was going to be Emilie's space. Bruce didn't want to make it seem like he wouldn't respect that this was her space just because they were in his house. 

The blonde had just grinned as she looked around before saying, "The higher powers bless Alfred Pennyworth. He is a saint, and we deserve him not. He really kept my old room the same…"

Emilie let out a watery gasp before making a beeline for the bed. Laying on top of the blue comforter was a familiar white kitten plushie. It looked _exactly_ like it had the last time she'd visited Bruce and Alfred in Gotham, down to the soft, satin blue ribbon tied around its neck. Her fingers gently traced the soft fabric, feeling the places where Alfred had painstakingly repaired it as well as the original stitching.

She hugged the plushie to her chest before turning towards Bruce.

"...you kept Muffin?" Emilie whispered. "This whole time?"

"Of course, Em. We had to make sure he was here when you came back home," he responded just as quietly, as if not wanting to break the delicate atmosphere. 

The smile she gave him in return made Bruce’s heart stutter in his chest.

Emilie just looked so _happy_. Her entire body was lax as she cuddled the plush toy. She was rocking on her heels as well, a habit she'd had since they were children, with her face half-buried in the toy. A sad smile was on her face before she mumbled, "Gabriel made me get rid of all my stuffies when we got married."

"Never again, Em. This is your room and your space. No one is going to toss out Muffin or any other stuffies you acquire. Okay?"

"Is that why you won't come in? You never had a problem walking into my room before."

Bruce paused, choosing his next words carefully. 

"Emilie…from what you've told me and what I've gathered from Audrey, Gabriel didn't treat you like your own person. He didn't respect your boundaries or your feelings on things. I never want to make you feel like you're trapped here. I know I'll probably make mistakes, but I want to do my best to do right by you."

The blonde's face was still partially hidden by the toy, but he could tell she was thinking over his words. She then held out her hand, making a grabbing motion towards him. She didn't say much else, but Bruce took that as permission to cross the threshold. 

As soon as he was in reach, Emilie grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bed. She climbed on the bed before guiding him to sit down next to her. She let out a tired yawn, snuggling into her pillow, before murmuring, "Stay until I fall asleep?"

Bruce smiled before gently squeezing her hand.

"Of course."

And he did. 


	9. Bruce Broods and Jon Shares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce broods over his house guest.
> 
> Jon's got stuff to share with the group.
> 
> Damian's just worried about Bruce.

Bruce didn't leave Emilie for at least twenty minutes after she'd fallen asleep.

She looked so  _ peaceful _ .

The blonde had shifted positions several times, finally settling on curling up on her side. She wasn’t quite in fetal position, but her body was curled slightly. She was still holding his hand, but her other arm had curled around Muffin. The stuffed cat was pressed against her chest, just under her chin, making his heart ache with nostalgia. Emilie had often slept like this when they had sleepovers, and Bruce knew it meant she was comfortable.

The dark haired man gently grabbed a nearby quilt and draped it over her, wanting to make sure she was warm. He knew he should go check in with his kids, but he felt something pulling him to stay beside her. He silently thought about whether or not that was due to missing his best friend or being terrified that she wouldn't be there when he woke up. Bruce had had dreams like that before, so it wouldn't surprise him if this was a dream. The only thing keeping him grounded in the fact that this wasn't a dream was Emilie's own appearance. 

Even with the blanket and her sweater, Bruce could tell she hadn't been eating well. She was too thin, looking like she'd lost too much muscle mass to be healthy. The way her clothes hung off her body had let him know she’d clearly lost weight unexpectedly. She would have bought new clothes had she been aware her old ones didn’t fit.

After all, Emilie had always liked to remind him that well-dressed people were often successful people when he complained about wearing suits as a kid.

Her hands in his had felt so much  _ smaller _ than he'd ever remembered them being. Looking at her hand now, Bruce could see how  _ bony _ they were. The bones in her wrist seemed more pronounced than usual. His gaze drifted up to Emilie’s face, feeling his anxiety rise despite the peaceful look on her face. 

Her cheeks were slightly sunken into her pale face, making his chest ache. Emilie looked so pale against the dark blue of the bedspread. Bruce worried for a moment that she might be at risk of getting ill with how pale she was.

She just...she just looked so  _ fragile  _ sleeping before him… like a porcelain doll ready to shatter at a moment's notice. 

Bruce needed to figure out what had happened to her… and to her kids. Domestic abuse was not an easy thing to recover from. That much he knew. He knew she would probably need to seek some professional help, but he didn’t want to push her before she was ready. It took a lot of strength to admit one had been abused by their spouse. It took a lot of strength to uproot oneself from their home to get a fresh start...forget about the strength it took crossing an  _ ocean _ to do so. 

Emilie mumbled a bit in her sleep, and Bruce gently squeezed her hand in response. She didn’t wake, snuggling further under the covers. Bruce smiled at her fondly before returning to his previous thoughts.

He needed to protect her. He needed to protect her kids. He needed to figure out just what had happened in order to make sure he could keep everyone safe.

Bruce was broken out of his brooding by the vibration of his phone. He carefully pulled it out before realizing he had a text from Damian. He opened it, slightly confused as to what his youngest could need. 

He felt his stomach churn slightly as he read:

**From: Damian**

**To: Me**

**Father, we need to talk. Jon’s found something.**

Bruce’s blue eyes flickered over to the woman, still sleeping peacefully. As much as he loathed to leave her, he needed to see what Jon had discovered. If Damian thought he needed to know, it must be important. 

He quietly got up, gently removing his hand from hers, waiting for a breath to see if Emilie would wake. When she didn't, he continued to walk towards the door. He texted Damian back, asking where he and Jon were currently. He received an immediate response, and he began to make his way towards the kitchen.

——————

Jon wasn't sure what he was feeling after talking with Adrien.

The Parisian boy was tense and closed off but not openly hostile. The blond’s posture had remained guarded, and he hadn't allowed Jon to get too close to him. He’d refused any help that the American boy had offered, citing that it wouldn’t take very long for him to put it away. He was always keeping Jon at arm's length, despite moving about the room to put things away. Another thing Jon had noticed was that Adrien seemed to curl into himself if he got any closer.

...it was as if the blond was preparing to be struck by Jon. 

Pair that with the fluttery beating of the Parisian's heart, the fear in his green eyes, and the impossible mostly healed injuries, Jon was willing to bet Adrien and his companions were metas, magical beings, or possibly regular civilians in contact with a magical user, who had been severely harmed by someone or something. He had heard Bruce talking with Dick and Alfred about Mr. Gabriel Agreste being arrested for terrorism, not child abuse...but maybe the courts had missed something? Did Adrien, Marinette, and Miss Emilie know more about Gabriel’s actions then they were letting on? What exactly had happened while they were in Paris?

Was it something they should be worried about?

"So what you're saying is," Dick began slowly, "you x-ray visioned our guests, and they're hurt… but not hurt?"

"That lady should be  _ dead _ , Dick," Jon said flatly, rubbing his temple. "Last time I checked, humans can't survive having their vertebrae crushed like hers. It's being held together by  _ something _ —"

"And you think it could be magic?" Damian interjected. "Why?"

"Because I literally can't think of anything else that could be holding the bones together. It's like the fractures are partially healed, but anyone with x-ray vision could see where the damage was," Jon huffed. "Case in point, they're not  _ okay _ ."

Jon watched Damian’s face grow pensive before picking up on footsteps heading their way. A quick check told him it was just Bruce coming to the kitchen, so Jon continued to tell Dick and Damian about his conversation with Adrien.

"He was avoidant at best, especially when it came to his dad—"

"His dad's a convicted terrorist," Dick said. 

"But what  _ kind _ of terrorist?" Jon asked, gaining a concerned look from Bruce, who had just walked in. "I've scoured the internet, and I can't find  _ anything  _ about what he actually  _ did _ . No direct threats to the mayor's life. No bombs connected to him. No selling of major security secrets. Like this guy was the head of a  _ fashion _ company, so what could he have done that qualified as legitimate  _ terrorism _ ?"

The half-kryptonian could see the gears turning in Damian’s head. He knew his best friend would be pouring over this the second he had the chance (as would Bruce). Jon was a little worried about Dick, who's expression had become unreadable. The only thing he was certain of was that Dick was probably also trying to think of what could possibly be  _ so bad _ that the French government wouldn't have  _ reported something  _ about it somewhere...as if they were trying to  _ hide _ what was really going on. 

That thought made Jon uneasy.

"Adrien wouldn't even  _ mention _ what was going on in Paris in general. He just mentioned things weren't  _ good _ , and that's why his mom brought them here. The only thing I can really gauge is that Adrien despises his old man, and that's he's anxious about being here," Jon continued, tapping his fingers on the counter. "The rest of our talk was me telling him about myself, my parents, and Gotham in general."

Bruce gave Dick a look, and the other quickly recapped what Jon had seen with his x-ray vision. The man's face grew darker, darker than Jon could remember it being outside the cowl. The expression filled Jon with an anxiety that took him by surprise. 

He'd barely  _ met  _ Adrien, Marinette, and Emilie, but he already felt a deep need to protect them. They seemed so skittish and afraid of  _ something _ . It made Jon's heart  _ ache _ . They seemed like nice people, regardless of their cautiousness and strange injuries. 

Emilie had greeted him with a warm smile and a gentle handshake despite Jon's awkwardness. He hadn't found a hint of deception in the woman's eyes when she had greeted him or Damian. In fact, what he'd seen was an almost  _ fondness _ in her eyes as she'd spoken with Damian. She had looked at Bruce with a more intense fondness, but Jon would neither comment here nor there about it. She genuinely seemed to be a warm and friendly person, despite her anxiety that could be chalked up to being in a new place.

Adrien, for all his tenseness, hadn’t been unkind either. The blond had thanked him for dropping off Marinette’s luggage, saying how much he’d appreciated Jon thinking of her. What questions he had answered had been answered in a soft voice, without a hint of hostility. When Jon’s questions hit too close, Adrien had preferred the method of side-stepping the questions rather than snapping at him. The boy had even given him several genuine, sweet-looking smiles when he spoke about his mother and Marinette. His love for them shone through his eyes, and Jon found himself smiling with him.

Marinette just  _ looked _ sweet, and from what Adrien had told him, she was an invaluable friend. Adrien made her out to be a beacon of kindness and support. He mentioned that the dark haired girl was always supporting him, and when his mother returned, she stayed by his side. Jon would need to spend more time with Marinette before he made any final decisions, but he decided to trust Adrien’s words for now.

He looked at Dick and Damian, seeing both trying to figure out the puzzle Jon had given them, when Bruce began to talk.

“Emilie was abused by her husband and locked away from her child,” Bruce growled. “Emilie isn’t sure what happened to Adrien while Gabriel had her locked away, but she said he never physically abused Adrien while she was around...that still doesn’t explain Marinette’s injuries however. Correct me if I’m wrong, Jon, but you’re saying these injuries are old? Say older than about a month?”

“I’m not sure about how long the injuries have been there due to that magic...residue? The magic residue on their bones. They could be recent, I suppose,” the half-kryptonian admitted with a shrug. “But if they’re new, they would have to have had contact with something magical to heal the injuries.”

Bruce turned his attention towards Dick, telling the young man to check in on the known magic users related to the League. If anything magical was going on in Paris, it was more than likely that one of the League’s resident magic users had already looked into it. However, Bruce also knew that just because the magic users knew about it didn’t mean they’d tell anyone else. It might be in a file lost somewhere in the database with only a mention of “do not mess with it” tacked on. It drove Bruce nuts, but as Zatanna often liked to remind him, magic had  _ rules _ too.

Bruce then turned to look at Jon and Damian.

“Keep trying to befriend Adrien and Marinette. I trust that Emilie would have told me if they were still in danger, so I don’t believe they’re in immediate danger. However, if something magic has been going on, possibly without their knowledge, they could still be in danger.”

Jon nodded before Damian clenched his fists.

“What happens if it turns out they know?” he asked, his green eyes darkening. “What happens if we’re right to be concerned? What happens if she was lying to you, Father?”

The dark haired half-kryptonian wanted to stop his friend, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Jon knew how worried Damian had been after Selina left Bruce. Jon knew Damian was worried what would happen to his father if his childhood friend wasn’t what he thought she was. Jon would be worried too if it was his father, so he sat silently while Damian continued to voice his concerns about what they were to do if the situation went south.

Jon felt his own concern well up as he stared at the cold look on Bruce’s face. It felt like his stomach was filled with needles as he watched the man’s micro expressions change with passing thoughts. He hadn’t wanted to cause any pain...but they needed to know in case they were in danger.

“We’ll deal with that when we get to it, Damian,” Bruce decided, a pained look in his eyes. “We’ll deal with that when we get to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! Just wanted to let you know that I will be updating this fic and The Head Omega in an alternating pattern. I'll be working on the next update of The Head Omega before the next chapter of this, so please stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks for all the love and support! This pandemic has been hard, and I appreciate all the good vibes I can get.


	10. Small Steps and Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick contacts someone who might be able to help. 
> 
> Damian still isn't sold on things.
> 
> Bruce makes a discovery.
> 
> A surprise guest arrives.

Even before sneaking down to the dark, dampened cave, Dick knew this was going to be a  _ pain _ in the ass.

John Constantine, while a reliable source, was to put it lightly a  _ fucking jackass _ . The Englishman was arrogant and anti-social at best. He cared mostly for himself, even though Dick knew he had some semblance of a soul left deep down, but he kept that part hidden deep. More often than not, Constantine would approach things with a sarcastic, almost sardonic, manner that made the ex-Robin’s skin crawl given the nature of what he was dealing with. He’d use his wits and deceptive tactics to get answers, but Dick knew there was no better detective to turn to if something supernatural was going on. He would also be more willing to tell Dick more information for the right price, rather than keeping it tight-lipped like the other leaguers might.

The only way John Constantine would keep something to himself was if he literally  _ couldn’t _ tell them or if it would destroy the world as they knew it to tell. 

Dick pulled up Constantine’s contact information from the Batcomputer, ignoring the scuffling of feet and quiet swearing that meant Jon and Damian had followed him down to the cave. He could hear Jon trying to convince Damian not to spiral just yet, and Dick silently agreed with him. There was nothing there yet to suggest that the three Parisians were there to hurt any of them, even Bruce. They, at least Emilie, appeared to be trusted by both Bruce and Alfred, and if they couldn’t trust Alfred, then they couldn’t truly trust anyone. 

He knew why Damian was so worried though...and Dick didn’t blame him one bit. Damian had only been a witness to Talia and Selina for the most part….but Dick had seen  _ a lot _ when it came to Bruce’s love life. Dick had seen times when it ended because Batman took precedent over the relationship, and he couldn’t blame the woman for leaving and wanting more. Some ended because Bruce pushed and pushed and pushed until the woman could be pushed no further. Dick had less sympathy for those, as they were Bruce’s own doing, but he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen the  _ hurt _ Bruce went through every time.

Then there were instances like Talia, where the woman desperately wanted Bruce, but Bruce was hesitant to return the sentiment. Bruce didn’t want to become a puppet of Ra’s al Guhl, and being with Talia seemed like the perfect opportunity for just that. Bruce also couldn’t forgive her towards the end of  _ whatever _ they had going on for hiding  _ Damian _ away from them. Everything that he’d gone through, Bruce had firmly blamed Talia and her...less than great parental skills.

Jason would argue that Bruce had no room to talk, but Dick figured that was neither here nor there at this point. Bruce had never  _ attempted _ to murder one of them (and no, Dick didn’t count Bruce fighting Jason because at first Bruce  _ genuinely _ didn’t know it was Jason), and honestly, that was his only selling point on that front. But Dick couldn’t linger too much on that.

Selina...and potentially Diana were the only two women Dick had seen Bruce  _ break down _ over.

While Diana and Bruce had never dated, despite the family telling him multiple times to just  _ ask her out _ , Dick knew how painful it was for him to process through those emotions. Eventually, he’d settled on leaving things as they were, not wanting to ruin a perfectly good friendship over his ‘inconsequential feelings’. She was an Amazonian blessed with longevity, and he was a flawed human man after all.

Selina...she had wormed her way in  _ deep _ , and then she’d decided things just weren’t  _ going _ to work. The catburglar couldn’t accept that Bruce would  _ always _ be dedicated to stopping crime. Selina thought she could  _ change _ him, get him to loosen up, and have fun. She certainly had that influence  _ on _ him. Around Selina, Bruce was more relaxed and willing to laugh at things...but he’d always be  _ Batman _ . No one, not even Selina, could change that.

And Selina had  _ hated _ that fact.

So she’d given him an ultimatum, her or the cowl.

Bruce had been  _ torn _ because, while he truly did love Selina, he knew that walking away wasn’t that  _ easy _ . He knew he’d have to answer to his colleagues as to why he was leaving. He knew he’d have to hand over the mantle to one of his children (and Lord above, he wasn’t ready for that headache just yet), and he knew he’d always have to watch his back for enemies. There was also something just  _ deeply _ unsettling to Bruce about  _ not _ being involved in crime fighting anymore. It was so entwined in his life that he wasn’t sure he  _ could _ separate them any more.

Selina had taken his dilemma as a decision and told him she was leaving. To her credit, Selina didn’t scream or shout names at Bruce as she’d left (as many others had before). She left with her head held high and without any malice. Even now, whenever one of the Wayne family came across Selina, she was always cordial...even if she avoided the topic of Bruce. She also never told anyone else that she knew who Batman was.

Damian had told his brothers that’s because Bruce knew who she was and could expose her just as easily.

Dick was fairly sure it was because Selina still respected Bruce as a person. She knew Bruce would never spill her secrets to the world willingly, so neither would she. It was a remnant of the love the two once shared, but a remnant is all it would ever be.

But Damian had never seen the other women who came in and out of his father’s life, so Selina’s absence was like a gaping wound to him. Selina had crushed his father’s heart, and so the boy had strong negative feelings towards her for it. She was the one, in his eyes, who had caused all of this damage, instead of the true culprit which was years of failed relationships and commitment issues.

To Damian, the fact it could happen  _ again _ was scary.

Bruce had just begun to pull himself back up from his loss. Would he have to face another again so soon? Would his childhood best friend betray him? Would he break again or just become more jaded and reclusive than he already was?

Damian didn’t know, and Dick acknowledged how that could be frightening for the teen. Bruce wasn’t emotional often, so when he was, the Batfamily knew something was  _ wrong _ . As the team member with the littlest amount of experience, he could imagine it was even more distressful to Damian to consider this.

Dick was about to tell his brother to calm down when a familiar voice spoke over the phone.

“‘Ello,  _ luv _ ,” John Constantine greeted sarcastically. “What can little ol’ me do for you? It’s been awhile since your last call. Did you miss me,  _ Pretty Bird _ ?”

“Constantine, we believe there is something magical going on with a few of our guests,” Dick replied, trying to keep his voice even. “We need you to come to Gotham.”

“Well color me  _ impressed _ . Can’t figure it out on your own, so you assume it’s  _ magic  _ and call me?”

“Well it’s not  _ rocket science _ , so you know Red Robin’s no good here.”

Dick could hear Constantine laugh before saying, “So what’s the job then, _Pretty_ _Bird_?”

“We think magic was used in treating the life threatening injuries of three people.”

“ _ So _ ? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“I said  _ treating _ , not healed. These injuries should have killed, and yet it seems like the  _ magic _ is what’s keeping them alive.”

“...well fuck, what’s in it for me,  _ luv _ ?” Constantine asked, “You know I’m not a cheap date.”

Dick rubbed the bridge of his nose before sighing, “I’ll provide alcohol if you come and check things out. We just want to know if anyone’s in danger.”

“I think I can do that. I’ll mosey on over to Gotham then. Let the Big Bat know I’m coming so he won’t string me up from the gargoyles.”

“Fine...just don’t make me regret this, John.”

“ _ Regret?  _ Little ol’ me make you  _ regret anything _ ? Oh I wouldn’t  _ dream _ of it,  _ luv _ .”

Dick hung up the phone before turning to look at a rather unimpressed Damian and a confused Jon.

“I asked Constantine because for enough booze, he’ll tell us what we want to know, barring the end of the world or if he physically cannot because magic is a bitch. Zatanna won’t reveal anything if it’s supposed to be hidden unless it’s life or death because ‘it’s  _ hidden _ for a  _ reason _ , Richard’, and Doc Fate can be a tad cryptic when he feels like it.”

Jon nodded, a look of understanding dawning on his face while Damian continued to look unimpressed. Dick locked eyes with Damian before saying, “I know you’re worried, but you’ve got to be polite to our guests. They haven’t actually  _ done _ anything yet. Adrien’s hypervigilance could be a result of child abuse. Emilie’s a domestic violence survivor, so obviously that’s going to come with it’s own set of problems. Marinette isn’t even  _ related _ to the Agrestes’, and apparently she’s also been going through some severe abuse and bullying at school. I wouldn’t blame them for being tense around us.”

“But they could—”

“Damian,  _ everyone _ has the chance to hurt someone else,” Dick interrupted, throwing his hands in the air. “That’s the way life  _ works _ . The point is, they haven’t done anything  _ yet _ . Innocent until proven guilty, yes?”

The dark haired boy grumbled, crossing his arms, his green eyes boring holes into his eldest brother. The boy’s scowl grew even deeper when Dick suggested that if he was going to be grumpy about it, then he could go spend time with Jason, and  _ Tim _ would be sent to talk with their guests. Damian was  _ not _ going to get stuck with Todd, who was  _ insisting  _ that he was well enough to get up and move around. He’d rather follow the new arrivals around so he could keep an eye on them.

“If that’s a no, then go check in with Alfred. I need to update Bruce about this and get alcohol for Constantine. Marinette looked exhausted, so she’ll probably sleep till dinner. I think Bruce took Emilie to her guest room, and we know Adrien’s in his guest room. If it makes you both feel better, Jon, keep an ear out for movement upstairs. You two can go check the floor every twenty-five minutes,” Dick groaned, knowing his little brother wasn’t going to give up on his suspicions. “Just don’t  _ scare _ them.”

Damian seemed content with that. The teen grabbed Jon’s arm, pulling him towards the exit to the cave. He was already strategizing what they were going to do to ensure their guests weren’t snooping where they shouldn’t be.

The dark haired man closed his blue eyes for a moment before hissing, “Can we please, PLEASE, just get a break!”

—————

Damian’s words were eating at Bruce.

He didn’t want to believe that Emilie was  _ willfully _ lying to him. Omitting things, sure, but outright lying? It went against their entire relationship— but the Batman part of Bruce reminded him that things had  _ changed _ .

Her ex-husband was a  _ terrorist. _

He'd  _ abused _ her.

Emilie had probably begun to lie out of necessity to keep herself, and more importantly to her  _ son _ , safe. She might not even  _ mean _ to lie to him, but she could still be doing it out of pure habit now. She could be lying because she thinks that’s the only way to protect herself and the kids.

Bruce began to curse softly under his breath as he walked towards his room. He needed to be alone for a moment… and he also wanted to check up on his guests.

He was almost certain none of them had moved, but he couldn't ignore Damian’s concerns either. His youngest son had been raised in an environment where he consistently felt unsafe, and Bruce refused to make the manor like that. If keeping an eye on them would get Damian to feel more secure, then he would do just that. 

Marinette’s room was first. The door was still cracked…except it was a little wider now.

When Bruce poked his head in, he felt his anxiety deflate as he realized that Titus was the cause of this change. 

The hound had apparently curled up on the other side of a still sleeping Marinette after Bruce had made him leave Emilie’s room. He lifted his head to look at who was entering but lowered it upon seeing it was Bruce. Titus yawned at him before snuggling closer to the teen.

Marinette didn't seem to be bothered by the new addition to the bed. She was sound asleep, and Alfred the cat was still occupying the space opposite of Titus. Her face looked peaceful, a small smile on her lips. She didn’t seem to be waking any time soon, the rhythm of her breathing slow, steady, and deep. 

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief before leaving. He continued to walk down the hall before stopping to look at Adrien’s room. The door was shut, but Bruce couldn't hear any movement from the other side. He cautiously opened the door as slowly as possible. He peered inside and felt his heart twinge.

It was clear Adrien had torn apart the room looking for any bugs or cameras. The blond boy had also pulled the comforters and pillows off the bed to pile them into the right hand corner furthest from the door. It had the best vantage points as the bed and the dresser were on the left side of the room. It appeared like he'd made himself a little nest in the corner, and despite his best efforts, he'd fallen asleep.

Unlike Marinette, his sleep looked troubled. 

His face was pinched in distress, and it looked like he was pulling the blankets closer to himself. Adrien started to shake but oddly enough, the boy made little noise. He then began to thrash around, the blankets wrapping around him tighter, increasing the desperation of his struggle to get free. 

Bruce went over to Adrien without thinking. He didn't touch the boy but instead started to call his name. The boy’s thrashing doubled, the sheets winding around his face and neck tighter.

"Adrien! Adrien, you've gotta wake up! Adrien!" Bruce said, pulling the blankets away from the boy’s face. 

"DON'T HURT HER! PLEASE, DON'T HURT HER, FATHER! DON'T—" Adrien began to scream, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

"ADRIEN! It's okay! You're father’s not here. He's not going to hurt anyone. You're safe."

The teen continued to flail around, screaming. Bruce didn't know how long he tried to keep Adrien from suffocating himself with the blankets, but eventually he managed to unwrap Adrien from his little cocoon.

Adrien went limp as soon as Bruce grabbed the teen's arm. Bruce panicked for a second before realizing that Adrien was  _ still  _ asleep. He looked down at the child in his arms who still had tears in his eyes. His breathing was slowing back down. He was slowly beginning to shake less. 

Bruce felt his mouth go dry when he realized what had happened.

Adrien had just experienced a night terror.

Did the boy always have them? Was this a new development? Did Emilie know? What were they going to do?

Bruce took a deep breath before gently tucking Adrien back into his little nest. He took care to make sure the blankets weren't wrapped too tightly around the teen. He then stepped back as quietly as he could, making his way towards the door. He closed the door quietly, walking away as quickly as he could.

He felt his heart continue to race as he made a beeline to Emilie's room. He needed to check on her. He needed to tell her about Adrien. He needed—

Bruce stopped cold in his tracks when he heard Emilie's laughter ring out from the  _ wrong  _ direction. He quickly turned on his heel and followed the laughter to  _ Jason’s  _ door. He swung it open only to find Emilie sitting next to Tim, in between him and Jason.

Jason was propped up by pillows, groggily looking at Emilie. The dark haired young man was  _ smiling _ despite the winces he made, clearly in pain from trying not to laugh. He didn’t seem stiff at all, but Bruce attributed that to the painkillers Jason was still on. The fact he wasn’t saying anything was a miracle, as Jason was known to be chatty while on the medication. He seemed to be quietly listening to Emilie and Tim. His eyes were fixed on what appeared to be an old scrapbook.

Tim was leaning into Emilie’s side, clearly trying to get a good look at whatever she was showing them. The younger man seemed exhausted but pleasantly happy. He was laughing, smiling broadly at her and whatever was in the book.

Emilie herself seemed to be in a relaxed state as she showed them the book. Her posture wasn't quite as tense as it had before. While she still looked like she was drowning in her ill-fitting clothes (okay, maybe that was exaggerating, but Bruce  _ knew _ there was a difference), she didn't seem bothered by having to adjust her sleeves in order to turn the page of the scrapbook.

Neither of his sons seemed to be making a fuss over it either, and since Tim hadn't brought her to the kitchen, he could assume she still hadn't eaten. He made a mental note to watch her eating habits. 

"Em? I thought you'd still be sleeping?" Bruce said with a questioning tone. 

Emilie's green eyes darted towards the door, slightly stiffening before relaxing as she saw who it was. 

"Eh, I had to use the bathroom. Then I couldn't fall back asleep, so I started to wander and ran into Tim here. He mentioned Jason was bored and causing trouble, so I volunteered to entertain him," the blonde said with a shrug and a smile. "They're sweet boys, mon râleur."

Bruce could see Tim and Jason’s eyes  _ glint _ with mischief over the nickname. Emilie then hummed, "Do you remember the day we got stuck going with your mother to her arts and crafts meet? I can't remember exactly what it was called… but she showed me how to scrapbook?"

He did, in fact, remember. Alfred had been pressed by his mother to take a break, insisting she could handle dealing with Emilie and Bruce. His mother had taken the pair of them to one of her high society meetings where some of the women knit, crochet, and did other arts.

Emilie had wanted to join in but didn't know how to knit or crochet, so his mother and some of the other ladies had showed her how to scrapbook. The little blonde had roped Bruce into helping her, solidifying their, at the time, delicate friendship. 

He closed the door and walked over to Emilie. A soft look, one that surprised his two sons, was present on his face as he looked down at the old wrinkled page. He felt a flash of embarrassment as he saw that the page was of an old poem he'd written for her when he was eleven and realized just how much she meant to have in his life. 

"Yeah, Em, I do. You still have it?"

"Audrey held onto it for me. I still have all the letters you wrote me too. Now tell me, why did your two boys seem surprised that you've written poetry before? And what's this I've been hearing about 'Brucie Wayne'? Don't tell me you're still doing that godawful playboy persona?" Emilie asked, crossing her arms. 

For how  _ thin  _ and  _ small _ Emilie seemed, she had a presence to her that was shocking to those who didn't know her. Her green eyes didn't let up for a moment, scanning and searching for any crack in his shields that she could manipulate. Her head was held high (something that warmed his heart in inexplicable ways), and her stance was firm. 

Jason took one look and snickered before Tim whispered, "Oooo, he's in _ trouble _ ."

"Well, would you look at that! I need to go check on Damian—" Bruce said, his face heating up. 

He was  _ not _ having this conversation in front of his  _ sons _ . 

Emilie had lectured him plenty about making this false persona to deceive people shortly before Gabriel forced her to cut contact with him. The blonde had always fussed over that he'd never be able to have  _ real  _ friends if he never let anyone in. She’d worried endlessly for his own health and well being should they be separated…

Bruce shook his head before darting towards the door.

When he opened it, he expected one of two things to happen.

One, Damian and Jon would be lurking outside the door.

Or two, Tim would attempt to close the door to force Bruce to answer Emilie

However, what he  _ hadn't  _ been expecting was to see Clark standing behind the door, with one fist raised as if he'd been about to knock. 


End file.
